What the?
by IGotDaFeels
Summary: What happens when a group of immortal countries meets a group of immortal humans and their various enemies? From a slightly confused meeting to a punched Archon friend to an Earthlord to a hyper-powerful energy being that can destroy the world, with exactly one week to stop it, things get weird fast. FrancexJoan, and a bunch of other pairings that I won't bother to say. OCs used.
1. Chapter 1

France strolled casually down one of the side streets of Paris, his hands in his pockets and his golden hair tied back from his face. To any other observer, he would just look like an ordinary human being on a walk through the city, seeing the sights and enjoying the croissant-scented air. Those observers would probably be surprised to know that he was older than the city itself. And that he was the living, breathing personification of a country. Yes, he believed that it would be reasonable to be surprised about that. _If I am walking on la terre francais, does that mean that I am walking on myself? _He wondered as he took a turn towards the Eiffel Tower. _And is that even physically possible? Hm. I 'ave no idea. Best not to confuse myself. _

Joan walked through the streets of Paris, her hand wrapped tightly around her husband's, le Comte de Saint-Germain. As they rounded a corner, chatting quietly about the Elders that were supposed to be hiding somewhere in the city, her foot collided with a pile of horse dung that was lying on the side of the cobbled street. "My God," She muttered, glaring at the horse-drawn carriage that pulled tourists around through the city.  
"What is it, Jeanne?" Saint-Germain asked, linking his arm through hers.  
"Nothing, it's just this manure on my shoe," She grumbled. "And this is my favourite pair!" For a millisecond, Joan's silver aura flared up around her, and a trace of lavender wound its way through the air. The crap shriveled and fell off her foot. She sighed. "That's better."  
Saint-Germain flashed his white teeth at her. "That's good... Say, shall we go to the Eiffel Tower? It's been a while since we last visited."  
Joan grinned back. "Sounds perfect." Arm in arm, the two immortals turned down a side street and headed for the familiar spire, rising above the buildings.

As France walked through Paris, he was suddenly and inexplicably reminded of Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orleans. Sudden tears rose to his eyes as he remembered the time that he had gotten the news from England; she had been burned alive at the stake. He turned and glared at a flower stand that had a large bouquet of lavender at the very front. _Lavender was always 'er favourite flower, _he remembered wistfully as the base of the Eiffel Tower came into view around the corner of a stone building. Shaking his head to dislodge himself of the memories, France started working his way through the crowd towards the landmark.

Joan and Saint-Germain turned the final corner and gazed at the tower, trying to ignore the sweaty tourists that were packed around them. "It seems larger than when it was built," Saint-Germain muttered to Joan. "Do you think so?"  
"Really? I always thought that it looked smaller, because of all the people around it."  
"To me, the people were what made it look larger."  
Hand in hand, the couple began to weave their way through the masses that were sitting around on the grass.

After what seemed like ages of stepping on hands, apologizing, and backtracking, Joan and Saint-Germain managed to make their way to one of the legs of the tower. Saint-Germain had just pressed the 'up' button to call the elevator when a couple of tourists who were lounging around recognized him.  
"Germain! Germain! Germain! Ohmygosh it's really you! We're, like, your biggest fans!"  
As the two men fangasmed over Saint-Germain, he flashed a smile and waved, then murmured to Joan, "Why don't you go on ahead? I'll catch up."  
She smiled back. "See you soon!" Just then, the doors for the elevator dinged and she walked in, pressing the button for the very top.

France finally managed to finish weaving through his people to one of the legs of the tower and punched the button to go up. While he was waiting for the elevator, he entertained himself by watching someone get berated **(A/N or so he thinks…XD) **by two other people by the far side of the tower. They were obviously talking loudly, with energetic arms movements that meant either extreme rage or extreme excitement. Just then, the doors dinged and France walked into the elevator. _What button should I press? _He wondered. _I do not particularly feel like eating at the restaurant… I may as well go straight to the top. _

Joan stood on the small observation deck at the highest point of the tower, leaning on the rail and staring out over the city. Unexpectedly, her mind wandered back to the fifteenth century and the Hundred Year War, when she was first made immortal. "The city has changed so much since then…" She mused out loud as she gazed at the rooftops. Just then, the elevator dinged and someone else walked out. _Would it be Saint-Germain? _She wondered. _No, it couldn't be… Fans usually keep him occupied for at least a half hour…_

France walked out of the elevator onto the observation deck, his hands in his pockets. Directly in front of him, there was already a slim woman with dark hair facing away from him, leaning on the rails. Deciding to be friendly in a non-flirty way, he strolled over and leaned on the rails beside her. "It is a beautiful city, is it not?" He asked while gazing out over the buildings. He could feel the woman shift beside him.  
"Yes, yes it is… Although it has changed much."  
He chuckled. "You 'ave no idea."  
"Why? You don't sound…-"

"It is a beautiful city, is it not?" Joan heard a man's voice say. Without looking at him, her mind still on the fifteenth century, she replied, "Yes, yes it is… Although it has changed much."  
She heard the man chuckle, as if he was in on some kind of inside joke. "You 'ave no idea."  
Joan frowned. The voice didn't seem like it was particularly old. She turned her head to look at him. "Why? You don't sound…-" Her voice died in her throat. Everything about the man, from the long blonde hair to the bright blue eyes to the day-old stubble on his chin screamed familiarity at her. With a jolt, she remembered the last time that she had seen that face… and it was over five hundred years ago. "…Francis?"

"Francis?"  
France turned with a start. "'Ow do you know my…."  
He found himself staring into sharp gray eyes, eyes that he had known so well and had never forgotten, even after five hundred years. "…Joan?"  
France's words died in his throat. He still had trouble believing that the woman that he had loved, over five centuries ago, was still alive. "…'Ow is this possible? You were burned alive... Unless…"

"Unless…" It took Joan a moment to snap out of her stupor. She was still completely awed that Francis was still alive, even after all this time. **(A/N She doesn't know that France is immortal/a country)** _However, he could be immortal as well, _Joan mused. Deciding to take a leap of faith, Joan asked, "Are you an immortal as well?"  
Francis seemed slightly amused at that. "Yes, that's one way to put it."  
Joan grew excited. "Really? Who's your Elder master? Or do you have one? How long have you been immortal for?"

As Joan bombarded France with questions, France grew more and more confused. _People can _become _immortal? And what the hell is an Elder? _His train of thought paused. _Well, at least I can be assured that she isn't a country. Maybe it's time to tell her. _He held up his questions to interrupt the Frenchwoman. "Joan… I can answer some of your questions, not all, but this is not the time, or the place."

Joan paused in her flurry of questions. Upon hearing the words 'answer' and 'questions', she immediately dropped the stream of inquiries and grabbed Francis' wrist, dragging him towards the elevator. _Yes, yes you will… _She thought determinedly.

* * *

**Yay! First chapter done... And don't worry, people, the chaos will begin soon! XD This was actually easier than I thought... I was watching the Hetalia episode where Joan of Arc was mentioned, and I remembered that Joan was the love of France's life, and I realized that Joan appears in SotINF (Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel; it's too long to write out...) And my brain was like, 'connection!'**

**Honestly, I'm surprised that nobody wrote a fanfic like this before...**

**Am I ranting? I think I am. -.-'**

**Anyways, please review, favourite, and follow! Wuvs~**


	2. Chapter 2

(Saint-Germain's POV)

After about ten minutes of fanboying from the two fans that had managed to sidetrack him, Saint-Germain disentangled himself from the flurry of pens and paper and arms and other various body parts that they demanded him to sign.

"No! Germain! Don't go! Please don't leave me!" One of them screamed, tears streaming down his face and into the tips of his hideous sideburns.

"But I thought that we were friends!" The other yelled, blasting a shockwave of horrible breath into Saint-Germain's face.

_I barely know you… _Saint-Germain thought awkwardly.

Bidding farewell and trying to remain polite, Saint-Germain eased himself away from the crazed fans and headed towards the nearest elevator up the Eiffel Tower.

_I might need to consider faking my death again, just to get away from lunatics like that, _Saint-Germain mused as he straightened his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair a few times.

A few moments later, the elevator doors dinged and Saint-Germain smiled, eager to see his wife again. The doors opened and two blurred shapes blasted out of the small compartment, knocking him to the ground and sprinting away across the grass. One of them, strangely enough, looked like Joan, while the other was unfamiliar, although Saint-Germain had the niggling suspicion that he had seen him before, in the fifteenth-century court. _Impossible… He doesn't look like any immortals that we have listed… Maybe a descendant? _

As Saint-Germain was caught in his musings about the two, he failed to notice that the pair of fanboys from before had managed to sneak up on him and grab onto his shoulders. "Wait, wha-?"

One of them (the one with sideburns) laughed evilly. "We have you now, Germain." Sideburns snickered. "Now, you _have _to sign everything that we have!" Bad Breath chimed in from the other side.

Saint-Germain paled. _Everything? _"Nooooooo!" He wailed as the fans dragged him away, the other people by the tower somehow not noticing the miniature drama that was unfolding approximately three meters away from where they sat.

(France's POV)

Joan pulled France into one of the smaller side streets of Paris. Breathing heavily, she took a step back from France and released his wrist. France immediately cradled it with his arm and rubbed it roughly, trying to get some feeling back into his appendage. "I think that you killed it…" He muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Joan asked.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," He assured her hurriedly. "Now, where, exactly, are we going?"

Joan shrugged. "I was thinking that we could go to my house, but-"

France shook his head. _Not at all! If anything, my place would be better. _Voicing his thoughts, he cleared his throat and said, "No, it would be better to go to mine. It's almost definitely more secure, and I don't want what I 'ave to say falling on sensitive ears."

Joan shrugged. "If you wish."

France nodded firmly. "I do wish." Reaching out his hand, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her in the direction of his mansion, taking a moment to have an inner victory dance at the opportunity to kill _her _arm. _Now she can know what it feels like to have a dead wrist… _Without meaning to, he let out an involuntary "Ohonhonhonhon~", which severely creeped out everybody within hearing range.

(Saint-Germain's POV)

Saint-Germain limped towards his house, his clothes torn and chunks of hair missing from his head. After making him sign so many pieces of paper, shirts, pants, and hats that his hand ached and he got blisters on his fingers, they had resorted to taking whatever they could of his clothes and hair. He was sorely tempted to give them little burns on their hands, something to remember him by, but he resisted the temptation and instead distracted him by some flaming butterflies, conjured up by his trigger tattoos, and fled.

Saint-Germain turned a corner into one of Paris' main streets and crossed the road to his house, his heart lightening with every step. After he had escaped the fans, he had confirmed his suspicions by checking the top of the Eiffel Tower and started to head home, convinced that Joan had gone the same way.

His hand brushed against the doorknob and he twisted the handle, letting the door swing open. "Joan? I'm home! ~" He called, but there was no response. Saint-Germain then noticed that everything was perfectly untouched, exactly as it had been when they had left. Joan wasn't home.

"Are you kidding me?" He moaned.

(Joan's POV)

As Francis pulled her on a wild dash through the city, she wondered why he wasn't acting more surprised. In fact, he seemed downright normal. Aside from the strange 'Ohonhonhonhon' that he had let out earlier on, Francis seemed like it was normal for him to find five hundred year old former lovers roaming the streets of Paris. _Well, maybe for him, it is… How would I know what he gets up to in his spare time? _**(A/N Joan, whatever you do, DO NOT ask him that question…)**

As they turned yet another corner in a labyrinth of corners and side streets, Joan noticed that they seemed to be heading towards the richer area in Paris. _Well, would that be surprising? Most immortals collected a fortune over their years… _

A few minutes later, Francis stopped in front of what was possibly the largest, most opulent mansion that she had ever seen, completely with intricate iron and brick fences, an imposing looking gate, and a _huge _lawn. Francis calmly walked up to a small intercom set in the brick wall and pressed on a button. _"Bonjour, Matthieu. Pouvons-nous entrer, s'il vous plait ?" _(Hi, Matthew. Can we enter, please?) (**A/N**** Yes****,**** fangirls****, Canada is here too)**

A moment later, something buzzed and the gates swung open. Francis gestured dramatically at the house. "_Entrez, _Madame."

(France's POV)

France took a moment to savour the expression on Joan's faced as she gazed around, slack-jawed, at his house. _Well, technically, all of France is my house, but whatever…_

"'Ow do you like it, Joan?" He asked, deciding to distract her from a cluster of flower that stood by the path's side.

She shook herself, as if awakening from a dream, and smiled at him. "Very nice."

As they neared the main doors together, one of them opened and Canada peered out. "_Bonjour, Papa." _He greeted somewhat disheartedly. "_Qui avez-vous avec vous? __Est-ce que c'est une autre? Deja? » _(Who do you have with you? Is it another one? Already?) **(A/N Oh, poor Canada… -.-') **

France shook his hands at Canada hurriedly to shush him. "_Non, non, elle n'est pas! Arret de parler! __C'est Jeanne d'Arc! » _(No, no, she isn't! Stop talking! That's Joan of Arc!)

Canada frowned for a minute, obviously confused, then mumbled something that mostly sounded like an apology in his soft voice and disappeared inside the house.

France turned slowly and awkwardly towards Joan, internally sweatdropping like a maniac. Joan, thankfully, didn't seem to be interested in Canada's comment and instead asked France, "Who was that? Was it wise to tell him who I am? And why was he… Disappearing?"

France was practically screaming with relief, but he maintained a straight face and instead replied, "Oh, that was Matthew, an… Old friend of mine. And, yes, it's safe. He's like me. And as for why he was disappearing… Well, I have no idea. People don't usually notice him."

(Joan's POV)

_So, there are more like him? _Joan mused as Francis led her into the dark depths of the house. Opening a small door set into the side of a hallway, Francis flicked on the lights to reveal a small, cozy room with a pair of sofas, a bookshelf, and an unlit fireplace on the far wall. Matthew entered quietly behind her, closing the door, and took a seat on the couch closest to the fire. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, fidgeting and glancing at the door as if he wanted to run away, so, trying to make him feel more comfortable, Joan took a seat beside him. Matthew consequentially jumped about a mile in the air.

Francis settled into the sofa across from her and sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Where do I start…" He wondered aloud, and Joan directed her full attention towards him.

"You want answers? Then, I shall give you the best answers that I 'ave. I was born- Or, created, more like, when the Frankish Kingdom was united by Clovis, in 486 AD. People call me by many names… Francis Bonnefoy, the big brother of Europe, even Frog, but my first and oldest name, is France."

He paused and Joan could feel her mouth steadily widening.

"I, along with many other immortal beings in the world, am a Nation Spirit. I am the collective personification of every single living person in my country. Every single Frenchman or Frenchwoman is a part of me, and I of them. I'm essentially the soul of France. I'm fully immortal, as well. If I get 'urt, I 'eal, as long as I'm on French land. And if I'm killed, my spirit will return to my body within moments. So, in other words, I can't die, unless every single french person is killed, along with the entire landmass of France disappearing." He paused a second time. "Any questions?"

Joan was dumbfounded. "So, let me get this straight… You're a country, you're 1527 years old, you're unkillable, and there are more like you-in fact, one for every country in the world."

Francis- No, _France _nodded. "And there are even personifications of a few micro nations and 'onorary countries, such as Sealand, Wy, and Hong Kong."

Joan dropped her head into her hand. Her thoughts were whirling around at such an incredible rate; she wouldn't have been surprised if her brain exploded.

Or, actually, on second thought, she probably would be surprised.

"I just have one question…" She managed to get out.

France looked like he was dreading what was coming, but he nodded and said, "Go on."

"Which country is Matthew?"

France looked like he would burst with relief. "Oh, Mattie? He's the ever-unnoticed personification of Canada!"

Canada groaned. "Seriously, France?" He muttered in his almost-inaudible voice.

Joan thought, almost gleefully, _I wonder what the other's reactions will be when they meet their home countries?_

And it was at that moment that she remembered Saint-Germain.

* * *

**Yay! Another chapter! Germain, I'm sorry for being so mean to you… -.-'**

**Germain: Why? D:**

**Me: I'm sorry! :( **

**Anyways, things are starting to get a little crazier (although not by much…) but the real craziness happens when the whole weird auric thingy comes in, plus the rest of the countries and immortals! I can't wait to see Veneziano's and Romano's reactions when they re-meet Machiavelli...**

**Well, please review/favourite/follow! More chapters will be coming soon!**

**Wuvs~**


	3. Chapter 3

(Joan's POV)

Joan nearly jolted out of her seat. "France…Germain…Home…Fanboys…Mneh!" She babbled. _Oh god, oh god, oh god, I left Francis _**(A/N I didn't want to call him Francis before, because that's France's human name…) **_all alone with those fanboys… They'll rip him to shreds! _She stood up from the sofa, nearly knocking Canada off. "I'm sorry France, but I have to go now. I left my husband with some fans, and they'll tear him apart!" She announced.  
A brief look of hurt flashed across France's face at the word 'husband', but it passed so quickly, Joan wasn't sure whether she had actually seen it or if she was just imagining it. France stood up, walked across the small room, and laid a hand on her shoulder.  
"Joan," He began", Relax. It is fine. You do not 'ave to worry about him. I am sure, that if you married 'im, 'e must be able to take care of 'imself. Am I right?"  
His calm voice and steady tone relaxed Joan, and she began to settle down slightly. "I suppose, but-"  
France butted in. "There are still many questions that you must answer, for me, as well. Besides, I 'ave friends visiting tomorrow! Do you not want to meet some more nations?"  
Joan nodded, although slightly reluctantly. "I suppose…"  
France suddenly lit up, and Joan could practically see sparkles flying off his skin. "Parfait! Then, you shall answer my questions, and stay for the night! We should 'ave some of my old friends, and enemies, coming over first thing in the morning!"  
Joan sighed. From what she remembered of France, when he got excited, he was unstoppable. She flopped back onto the sofa with a groan and leaned back. "You have questions? Shoot."

(France's POV)

France leaned forward eagerly, steepling his fingers and resting his elbows on his thighs. "Well then… My first question is, 'ow did you become immortal, and when?"  
Joan nodded, as if she was expecting the question. "Well, when the English were about to burn me for witchcraft and all that, a very dear friend of mine, Scathach the Irish warrior maiden,-"  
France broke in. "Scathach? I 'ave read about 'er. But, is she immortal as well?"  
Joan nodded. "Yes. Over two thousand years old." She added, a touch of awe in her voice.

France flapped a hand at her. "That's not so bad... China's over four thousand, and Japan's pretty old too."  
Joan paled in shock but continued. "She fought her way single-handedly into the thong of people and broke me out. But, I was already badly burned and would have died if she had not given me some of her blood, in effect making me immortal."

France nodded as if Joan's story was actually making sense to him. _Well, it makes just about as much sense as my story of Nation Spirits, _he realized. Aloud, he said, "Okay, that mostly makes sense. Now, you mentioned something called an 'Elder' when we met. What the 'ell is that?"  
"Well, before the humans ruled this Earth, there were a series of superior races that dominated the land. When the Earth was first created, we had the Earthlords, a powerful dragonlike race that had amazing magical and auric abilities. After them, during the period of the Cambrian Explosion, we had the Ancients, who were creatures of intelligence, and who had vast city-colleges dedicated to learning. After them, we had the Archons during the time of the dinosaurs, who had amazing, almost magical technology. When they left the Earth, it was taken over by the Great Elders, a group of extraordinarily powerful magical beings who raised an entire island, the isle of Danu Talis, just so that they could live on it. Their children, the Elders, ruled alongside them from the end of the cretaceous period to ten thousand years ago, when Danu Talis sank and the humans took over."

France nodded again. "Okay. Unimaginably ancient, powerful races that ruled the earth, and we've never seen any sign of them before. Right. Now, you keep on mentioning something called an 'aura'. What is that?"  
Joan straightened in her seat. "An aura is basically another word for a life force. It appears hovering around a body, and they all have different colours or mixes of colours. All living things have one, and you can learn to see them and control them, if you wish."  
France practically jumped up in his excitement. "That is incroyable! What can you do if you control it? What colour is yours? And what is mine?"  
The corner of Joan's mouth twitched, as if she was trying to repress a smile. "Well, for lack of a better word, if you learn to control your aura, you can do… Well, magic. I already know that mine is silver…" She closed her eyes, and a moment later, France could see a silver glow rise off her skin and wink in and out of existence. A trace of lavender danced through the dry air.

Joan opened her eyes and the glow faded. "And I don't know what colour yours is, I haven't checked yet…" She paused. "Okay, it seems that your aura is kind of a pale, robin's egg blue. But… that's strange… Your aura is rimmed with gold, and it has silver highlights kind of floating through it… I've never seen an aura like that before…"  
France shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant. He knew that he should have been acting surprised, but after hearing England rant on about magic for hours on end, he wasn't too shocked. "Perhaps it is simply a side effect of being a Nation," He suggested lightly.  
Joan nodded, although she still looked confused. "Maybe… Here, let me show it to you." She gracefully stood up and made her way across the room. She laid a hand on France's shoulder, and a moment later, when France glanced down at his hands, he could see a thick sky blue, rimmed with gold and silver. The delicate odor of roses wafted into the room, replacing the lingering smell of lavender.

A moment later, he laughed out loud. "This is amazing! I can't believe that I actually 'ave one! I didn't think that I would qualify, considering that I'm not exactly 'uman…"  
Joan cracked a grin. "Well, neither are the Elders, Great Elders and Earthlords. Now, I have a question for you, France." She lifted her hand from France's shoulder and the glow faded. France watched it disappear, a little disappointed.

"Can I borrow your phone?"

(Joan's POV)

After testing the colour of Canada's aura, which was vivid green with the scent of maple syrup **(A/N Of course… XD) **and the same gold and silver lights, France directed her to a phone hanging on the wall, then left her in peace to make her call. Joan immediately dialed in her home phone number. Francis answered on the first ring. "Joan, where the hell were you!?" He exclaimed into the phone. On the other side, Joan winced from the volume and quickly cut off his building rant.  
"It doesn't matter! I've found something that you absolutely must see!"  
Francis immediately calmed down, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What is it?" He asked.  
Joan shook her head, although she knew that Francis couldn't see her. "I can't say. Just come and bring…" She covered the phone with one hand and yelled at France, "Which countries are visiting tomorrow?"

"Italy Veneziano, Italy Romano, Germany, Prussia, Japan, America, England, China, and Antarctica."

She turned back to the phone. "Bring Machiavelli and Billy the Kid, of course… They're inseparable. See if Telemann wants to come, he probably will… Bring Niten, of course, and Aoife, maybe even Copernicus will want to tag along. Shakespeare will love this, and Palamedes of course, and see if Virginia Dare will come with Billy. Oh wait, of course she will, they've been dating for months… And maybe Sun Yat-Sen will come, if we ask nicely… Other than that, Tsagaglalal and Scathach will definitely come, and see if you can get Marethyu and Sophie to arrive. That should be it!"

Joan then rattled off the address of France's house, and hung up. Three seconds later, she realized what she had just done. "Some of the most powerful auras in the world, and some of the oldest humans, plus Nation Spirits… Either this will be the most fun that we've had in years, or it will start a world war… Literally!"

* * *

**Yay! Chapter three, done already :) So, I'm introducing a new OC here, who is the very marvelous Antarctica!**

**Appearance: Very pale skin, and she's really skinny, pretty much anorexic skinny, on account of next to no food growing in her country. She has pale blue eyes and white hair with black streaks that is longer on one side than the other. She also has a black ahoge that kind of looks like a lowercase 'm'. Since she's so used to the cold, everywhere she goes (except for Antarctica, Siberia, and really northern Canada) She wears a tanktop and short shorts, because everywhere feels really warm in comparison to her homeland.**

**Personality: She's pretty quiet and shy sometimes, even less noticed than Canada because she isn't considered to be a real country. But, if you get to know her, she's really outgoing and a little hyperactive. Pretty much everyone likes her, cuz she's so nice :) She also REALLY loves penguins, and she's dating Norway.**

**That just about sums her up... I'm also introducing one new pairing, Virginia and Billy, cuz I've always loved them as a couple, and three new immortals: Georg Telemann, a famous German composer, Nicolaus Copernicus, a VERY awesome Prussian astromoner, and Sun Yat-Sen, a Chinese revolutionary that helped establish a strong government. That's all!**

**Review, favourite, and follow! You know the drill ;) Wuvs~**


	4. Chapter 4

(France's POV)

It was just past midnight, six hours after Joan had made the call to her 'husband'. France had spent the rest of the six hours badgering Joan with questions and asking her to teach him how to control his aura, even a little bit. _Well, asking is one way to put it… _He reflected as he climbed to stairs to his room. _But I zink that begging would be a much better word. _Despite her protests, France had kept at it, and six hours later, France had learned how to bring his aura into view at will. He would never say it to anybody, not even Canada, but he was immensely proud of the progress that he had made, however small.  
As he stepped onto the top floor, Canada materialized right beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. France stifled a girly shriek and spun around, only to immediately relax when he saw the younger country's familiar face. "_Oui? Qu'est-ce que c'est, Canada_?" (Yes? What is it, Canada?) **(A/N from here on, I'm just going to use italics when they're speaking French… It's too much work to always translate it back into English)  
**Canada paused, looking slightly awkward. "_I was just wondering, Papa… Why aren't you being… Well, more like you by now? I mean, you throw yourself at anything beautiful, whether it's male, female, or an inanimate object… Usually, you would be stripping and 'Ohonhonhon'ing by now. What's with that?"  
_France paused, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "_No reason. I shall leave the flirtation for tomorrow. Go to bed."  
_"_But, Papa-"  
_"_Go. To. Bed." _France put on his best serious face, which wasn't actually very serious, and Canada backed away, then turned and descended the stairs without another word. For a moment, France was feeling guilty that he had been so harsh with the younger nation, but he shook his head and went to his room, his mind preoccupied with the following day.

(Joan's POV)

_Joan was standing in a vast, empty, muddy plain. Directly in front of her was an impossibly tall wooden post rising above a huge pile of wood. Suddenly, blank, faceless people appeared around her and seized her arm roughly, pulling her towards the stake. _In her mind, Joan winced. She had dreamt of that many times, and she knew exactly what was coming next. _The figures pushed her back against the wood of the pole, and the hard material immediately rose up and grew around her wrists and waist, forming unbreakable bonds. Directly in front of her, the largest figure pulled a flaming torch out of its robes and was about to touch it to the fire when-  
_-When she was rudely awakened by something, or someone, jumping onto her bed. Her gray eyes flew open inside, only to find them staring at bright, baby blue eyes, merely inches away.

"The dudette's awake!" The eyes announced.

Joan responded by punching the intruder in the gut.

As the random person keeled to the side, Joan took the opportunity to jump out of bed and assume a fighting stance, waiting for the intruder to fight back.  
Instead, he just straightened up and laughed, to reveal a plain white shirt, jeans, and a muscular build, topped by the same blue eyes, glasses, and dark blonde-brown hair with an odd tuft sticking up near the front. "Nice punch!" He announced in a loud voice. He then stuck out a large hand for her to shake. Joan took it cautiously.  
"My name's Alfred F. Jones, but you can call me America if you like, cuz France says that it's okay!"  
Joan had to repress a smile at America's gregarious personality. "My name is Jeanne d'Arc, but you can call me Joan. What does the 'F' stand for?"  
America grinned. "The 'F' stands for 'Freedom', of course!"

"Git." A new voice, with a slightly irritated tone and a British accent chimed in. "It stands for Franklin."

Joan glanced around America to reveal a short, skinny man with vibrant green eyes, messy blonde hair, and the largest eyebrows that she had ever seen. The man walked around the bed, nudged America aside, and took her hand in a courtly gesture. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, but also The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. You can call me England, though," He added at the end.

"And my name is Jeanne d'Arc, the Maid of Orleans." Joan replied. England straightened up and grinned ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yes, I know… Um… Sorry about the whole burning alive at the stake thing…"

Joan smiled at him. "It's fine. That was five centuries ago, and if you hadn't, I never would have met my husband, or became immortal, or made all my current friends. So, really, I should thank you."  
England looked like he would laugh in relief. "Thank you, I-"

Just then, a man with bright amber eyes, a black ponytail, and overlong sleeves burst into the room.

"England! You have to help us, aru! The countries are going crazy!"

England paled and muttered something indecipherable, although Joan could pick out the words 'Oh god, help us', 'wankers', and 'bollocks'. Not very encouraging.

America, on the other hand, immediately brightened up and raced out of the room, presumably to add to the chaos.

Almost dreading what she would see, Joan followed England and the other man down the hallway and into the living room, where something that looked like a house party that had gone too far greeted her.

On the far side of the room, a man with dark brown hair, golden eyes, and a strange curl was yelling angrily in Italian at a taller man with slicked-back blonde hair and pale blue eyes. Another Italian was clinging to the darker-haired one's waist, crying and screaming things like 'Fratello! Don't be mad at Doitsu!' While the darker-haired one tried to disentangle him.

There was a small Japanese man a few meters away from them, with dark eyes and hair, looking extremely uncomfortable. France looked like he was discussing… Stripping?... earnestly with a tall albino man, although the albino kept breaking in and yelling things like 'I'm awesome!'

America had started to run around like a maniac, completely bowling over Canada and knocking him into England, who was, unfortunately, only a few feet away. England immediately leaped up and crashed into America, yelling things like 'I'll curse your -bleep- off, you -bleeping- -bleep- of a -bleep- so that you'll have to -bleep- sideways!"

Joan wisely avoided that… Conversation…

A girl with overlong dark brown hair and dark skin was talking animatedly to a taller, extremely skinny girl with white-and-black hair. She was looking so excited that sparks literally flew off her skin, while trails of frost seemed to be making their way down the arms of the taller girl.

And, in the middle of it all, a tall man with dark red hair and the same green eyes as England was standing on a table, drinking from a keg of beer and throwing chairs at other various countries. **(A/N for some reason, I threw in a couple of extra OCs in here, so they will be described at the end of the chapter.)**

Joan was stunned, to say the least. Then, a magnificent chair with carved legs flew over her head and crashed through a window behind her, and Joan decided that she had had enough. Her aura flared to life, throbbing with anger. "Everybody shut up!" She screamed, her aura augmenting her voice and solidifying into armour, for effect.

Simultaneously, everyone in the room froze and stared at her. Joan quieted down, and her aura faded immediately. "Thank you." She said in a softer voice. "Now, can you tell me who you are, please?"  
The Japanese man that she had noticed earlier stepped forward first, after a lengthy pause. "Herro," He said in a quiet voice. "My name is Kiku Honda, or Japan. A preasure to meet you."

"And you as well," Joan responded with a smile. One by one, the other countries came forwards. The man with the ponytail that had burst into the room was China, and the two Italians were Italy Veneziano and Italy Romano. "My fratello's South Italy, and I'm-a North Italy!" Veneziano chirped. He seemed to be so happy; his eyes were closed in pure excitement. "But everyone calls-a me Italy, and him Romano. Do you-a like pasta?"  
Joan couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I love pasta."  
The Italian responded by glomping her around the waist. After a few moments, the tall man with the blonde hair pried him off gently. "My name is Ludvig Beilsmidt. Unt, also Germany. A pleasure to meet you."

Joan responded in kind, while the albino pushed in front of him. "I am zhe awesome Prussia!" He yelled. "Unt my name is also Gilbert Beilsmidt! Zhat is an awesome name, no?" **(A/N Meeeh I have no idea how to spell Germany and Prussia's last name… I forgot! ;A;) **

Joan nudged him away. His beery breath was starting to get to her. The girl with the long dark hair was Portugal. "Hi, my name's Shana Fernandez, or Portugal, if you prefer. Don't worry; Antarctica, England, and I already know about the whole auric thing. You don't have to explain." She said, grinning. The girl with the white-and-black hair came up behind her. "I'm Taya Darmstan. And Antarctica." She said shyly, holding out a slender hand. "I specialize in winter magic, mainly wind, water, and ice, while Portugal is better at fire and earth."

Joan smiled and took her hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

Finally, the red-haired man who had chucked the chair at her came up last. "An' I'm Allistor Kirkland, but you can call meh th' permanentleh drunk Scotland!" He yelled, sending a blast of beery breath into her face. Joan fought against the urge to recoil.

Moments later, the door burst into flames. There were many screaming countries.

* * *

**Le gasp! The door burst into flames! Dun dun duuuun… That's never a good sign, is it?**

**Anyways, we have two new OCs! Yay!**

**Portugal**

**Appearance: Normal height, slim, with tanned skin and golden eyes. She has hair that looks like a normal dark brown and reached down to her waist, but if she steps into the sunlight, you can see that there's a buncha gold/bronze/caramel/auburn natural highlights. She generally wears light clothes and jean shorts, with hoop earrings and a small golden pendant around her neck.**

**Personality: She's been described as 'Spain's Canada'. She has the same general personality as Spain once she gets to know someone, but if you don't know her, she can be very reserved and withdrawn. She and Antarctica are best friends, and she's dating China.**

**Scotland**

**Appearance: Tall, slim, muscular, with pale skin, dark red hair, green eyes, and normal eyebrows. (I say that cuz he's Iggy's bro) He's England's older brother, and they don't really like each other all that much. He drinks and smokes a lot, but, despite what he said about being permanently drunk, he actually gets drunk very rarely. He just gets… Buzzed.**

**Personality: A bit of a rogue, but very fun to be around and very friendly. He also has a kinder, gentler side, but if you manage to piss him off, RUN. He has a heck of a temper once he gets mad…**

**Okay! That's all! So, you know the drill! (I hope) Wuvs~**


	5. Chapter 5

(Saint-Germain's POV)

Saint-Germain walked up the path to the mansion at the head of a ragtag group of immortals. To any other onlooker, they would look like normal people, visiting a friend, but if the onlooker had actually known who and what they were, they would have known that their ages could all be counted in centuries, if not millenia. Sun Yat-Sen, who walking walking behind and to the left of Saint-Germain, was the youngest at 'only' 147 years, but he was the exception. He glanced back at their little group.

Directly behind Saint-Germain was Scathach and Aoife, the twin celtic warrior maidens, chatting quietly about something or other. Niten, the japanese warrior, was strolling beside Aoife, his fingers interlaced with hers. A little way behind them were Virginia Dare and Billy the Kid, both trying to pretend that they weren't holding hands, while Niccolo Machiavelli was eyeing them and obviously trying not to smirk. Beside Machiavelli were George Telemann and Nicolaus Copernicus, two old friends that had fought together on many occasions. They were both watching Tsagaglalal, obviously wondering if she was available. Saint-Germain stifled a smile at their hopeful expressions. _Good luck with that, _He thought to himself.  
Shakespeare the Bard and Palamedes the Saracen Knight walked close to the very back. They were both staring at the house, Shakespeare muttering something about how it would be a wonderful setting for a play and Palamedes seeing if it was easily defensible or attackable.  
And, at the very back, the two oldest immortals in the group walked, side by side, and gazed around at their surrounding while talking quietly to one another. Marethyu, with his familiar black cloak, hood, and hook, was directly to the left of his sister, Sophie, who was wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt. Both of them had spent millenia living on the Earth and in other Shadowrealms. Saint-Germain had no idea of their true age anymore, but he estimated that it was somewhere above a hundred thousand years.

As he was caught in his musings, Saint-Germain failed to notice that as they steadily neared the house, the sound of chaos grew steadily louder. But, the chair sailing through a closed window and crashing to the ground quickly got his attention, as well as the attention of the rest of the group. They simeltaneously paused, listening. Saint-Germain broke into a run when he heard his wife's voice rising above the chaos, along with a flash of silver and the strong smell of lavender, bitter with anger. The entire group followed.  
As he neared the opulent doors, failing to notice that the house was quiet and only paying attention to the rush of blood roaring in his ears, Saint-Germain brushed a thumb against the butterflies tattooed on his wrist, then sent a ribbon of fire crashing into the wooden doors. They immediately burst into iridescent flames, sending a shockwave of heat out into his face.

(America's POV)

The two Italy dudes, Italy and what's-his-face, immediately started screaming their heads off. Italy hid behind the Germany dude, while What's-his-face hid behind Italy. _Not a good choice, pal,_ America thought gleefuly to himself as he moved into position, to the left of the flaming door. The jerky limey, **(A/N Aka Britain) **was looking pretty scary, with this weird black misty stuff surrounding him with little gold and silver floaty things in it. Antarctica, the tall girl with the white-and-black hair, was right behind him, with more of the misty stuff surrounding her, as well, except that it was silvery blue instead of black, and there were these weird frosty trails curling around her arms. The Spain lookalike chick was doing the same, except her mist was golden red and her hair was on fire.

America, being the hero, was about to jump in and save her, but then he noticed that she wasn't looking all that hurt, so he restrained himself and instead stood beside Canadia, who had pulled out a hockey stick and looked like he was ready to bash someone's head in. The new chick, Joan, was right behind the tall girl and the Spain lookalike, and _she _had the misty stuff too! Japan was right behind her, with his sword ready to slice someone into a million bloody pieces. **(A/N Okay, America, calm down… O.o)  
**Right at the very back, the Germany dude had pulled out a whip, while the weird albino had a broadsword in his hand and looked like he was ready to kill something until it was dead. The China dude, who seemed to be trying to protect the Spain lookalike, had pulled out a ladle and a frying pan, while the drunk Scot had armed himself with a golf club that had magically appeared from the pouch in his manskirt (**A/N Aka a kilt… *shudders* those things scare me…) **All in all, the countries looked like they were ready to kick ass! The first shadowy figures appeared through the fire, and America tensed, ready to leap and rip them to shreds.

(Joan's POV)

Joan was surprised about how quickly the countries were ready to fight. The door burst into flames, the Italies ran and hid, and about three seconds later, they were bristling with an array of swords, whips, hockey sticks… Golf clubs… Ladles… And auras. England, who was right in front of the door, was seriously freaking her out. _His aura's _black!? She thought to herself. _I've never heard of someone with a black aura… _In front of her, Antarctica and Portugal were both looking like they were ready to kick ass, the silver and gold highlights nearly impossible to see in their silvery blue and golden red auras, respectively. Joan lit up her own aura. Even if it meant that she might get hurt, she was going to fight alongside the countries until her last breath. The first shapes appeared through the flames, and Joan was rocked backwards with the sudden scent of… Burnt leaves? Green tea? Jasmine? _Francis… Niten… Tsagaglalal… _Her aura disappeared with a jolt. "Everyone! Stop!" She yelled, trying to make herself heard over the crackling of the flames. "These are my friends! Don't fight them!"  
Japan, China, Antarctica, Portugal, and England, who were closest, heard her and backed off, but the rest of them still looked ready to tear throats out. "Stop!" She yelled again, but a wave of smoke washed over her and she broke off, coughing.

"NOBODY FIGHT!" Another, louder voice shouted. Joan glanced up and England was standing over her, his black aura flared up, casting shadows over the room and absorbing the light. Everyone in the room immediately stopped, then backed off, sheepish expressions on some of their faces. Antarctica sent a wave of water over the flames, extinguishing them, then summoned a strong breeze to clear the smoke out of the room.  
England bent down, his aura gone, and offered a hand to Joan. She smiled and took it, whispering, "Thanks," in her hoarse voice.  
"My pleasure." He replied, smiling. France popped up behind England and, shoving him aside, immediately started checking her over, muttering worried/angry things in ancient French while his aura pulsed agitatedly. Canada came up behind her with a soaking cloth and started dabbing at the smokestains, his green aura hovering around him worriedly. Joan smiled and was about to tell them that their auras were visible without them trying to when she noticed Francis.

"Francis!" She whisper-shouted, breaking free from France and running over to wrap her arms around his neck. Scathach came up behind her and gave her a hug, while the rest of the immortals gathered around. The countries stood awkwardly in the room, and some of them tried to surreptitiously put away their various weapons. Scotland put some pants on, thankfully, while Germany tried to hide the whip behind his back and Japan carefully sheathed his katana.  
Francis seemed slightly surprised for a moment, then recovered and hugged Joan tightly around the waist. "Where the hell were you?" He muttered in her ear.  
Joan pulled back and smiled brightly. "Well, I met two unkillable immortals, one who's 1527 years old and one who's only 146 years old, neither of them knew about Elders and auras and all that, oh, and did I mention that they're the living, breathing personifications of countries?"

*chirp chirp chirp chirp*

Francis' eye twitched. "That's… Nice…"  
The rest of the immortals were silent, until Shakespeare came forward and polished his glasses.  
"Well, I do believe that I once said 'there are more things in heaven and earth, than ever dreamed of in your philosophy', and I do believe that said phrase applies perfectly here. Now, if I may ask, which one of you is England?"  
England stepped forward. "Greetings. I am Arthur Kirkland, also known as The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, also known as England. A pleasure to meet you at last, my good sir."  
Shakespeare seemed flustered. "I must say, it is a great pleasure to meet my home country. May I inquire as to how this is possible?"

As the two started to chat about british things, Virginia and Billy came up next, followed by Machiavelli.  
"Dude! Dude! This chick is totally Virginia Dare! I remember you!" America yelled, flailing his arms around in excitement. Virginia seemed surprised for a moment, but then her eyes strayed to his cowlick. In a moment, her eyes cleared. "Oh, America! I remember you! That's right!" She replied happily. Billy seemed shocked.

"You know this guy?"

"Yeah, I knew America when he was just an adorable little kid! We were born at the exact same time, and I would often run into him while I was living in the forest."  
The two chatted happily while Billy stared on, shocked.  
Joan smiled as she noticed how well the immortals and Nations were getting along. Machiavelli had met the Italies, and was immediately bombarded by an array of "Do you like-a pasta?" "Do you hate the potato bastard?" "Vee~ Can I hug you?" Machiavelli's face paled on that last remark, and, since he failed to respond, Italy took his silence as a yes and immediately glomped him around the waist. Japan and Niten looked on, sensing the mood and refraining from speaking. Scathach had found Scotland, and, since Scotland had somehow produced beer from his kilt, which was hanging down over his pants, they had begun a drinking contest. They were both past twelve bottles and going strong. Marethyu and Sophie had sought out Antarctica, China, and Portugal, and while Marethyu and China were chatting about how strange these youngsters were, Antarctica was teaching Sophie some tricks with ice while Portugal watched.

Tsagaglalal had found Prussia, somehow, and after Prussia screamed "I am zhe Awesome Prussia!" She had responded by grabbing his ear and dragging him over to Aoife, who cracked her knuckles with glee. They immediately begun a brawl that raged in the background while Germany, Telemann, and Copernicus chatted (mostly) calmy in German, completely ignoring everything that was going on around them. The calmness ended when Copernicus randomly shouted, "I am awesome!" To a comment that Germany had made.

Joan sat near the door, beside Canada, while Francis and France talking about how they had met in the court, sometime. "This is going better than I had expected." She muttered to the Canadian.

"Yes. For Nations, this is pretty normal, eh..."

"I can tell…"

"Umm… Joan?" The Canadian asked shyly, a slight blush brushing his cheeks. She turned towards him, surprised.

"Yes? What is it, Canada?"

"Uh… I was wondering if maybe you could teach me a few tricks with my aura, maybe? Just something simple to learn."

She smiled. "Of course I can! How about I teach you how to turn your aura into armour? It's one of the first things that I learned."

"Oh… Thank you! That sounds great, eh!"

Joan opened her mouth to speak again when an Archon calmly walked through the door, and the room fell silent.

* * *

**Dun dun duuun! An Archon walked through the door! *le gasp* So, I'm gonna give my OCs plenty of attention throughout the story (one of them is based off me (Antarctica) And the other is based off my best friend (Portugal) So yah…) I'm also giving Canada more attention than usual (I hope) Because I'm Canadian and he's adorable... w**

**Anyways, I guess you know the drill by now! But, if you don't…**

**Review, favourite, and follow! Wuvs~**


	6. Chapter 6

(America's POV)

America was chatting awesomely (as usual) with Virginia, who he had remembered from when he was a weird little gender-neutral chibi thing, when suddenly, this weird… _Thing _walked through the charred doorway and everyone stopped talking.

America had no idea about what the thing was, only that looked kinda like a person, with dark grey skin, paling to white on its feet and hands. It had a spray of multicoloured feathers growing from its bald skull, and when it blinked its yellow eyes, the eyelids slid sideways like a lizard's. America also noticed that it had seven fingers on each hand, each one topped by a razor-sharp red claw.

_Weird… Well, if you ever want to figure out what something is, punch it in the face!_ Since America was the closest to the door, he quickly spun around on his heel and flung his weight at the thing's face, his fist sinking in a good couple of inches before the thing flew backwards out the doorway from the force of the punch.

Virginia immediately slapped him hard on the cheek, for some reason.

"Ow! That hurt!" America complained.

"You idiot!" Virginia hissed. "That was our only friend among the Archons! He only visits when he needs to warn us about something, and _you just punched him in the face!"_

"…Oh… Wait, what's an Archon?"

"My name is Xpyiayoc," A new, deep voice rumbled, and the Archon climbed back into the house. "And the Archons were a highly technologically advanced race that ruled the earth during the time of the dinosaurs, before the Great Elders and Elders took over. I am also one of the creators of humankind, America. Nice punch, by the way." Xypiayoc winked at America, and the Nation immediately decided that he liked the Archon. **(A/N Yay! It's a nice Archon! It's hard to type his name though… -.-')**

(Joan's POV)

**(A/N By the way, I should tell you that most of the story for now will be told in Joan's POV, because she's kinda the main character from here on...)  
**Xypiayoc sat himself down on one of the couches and tapped at a point in the air, for some reason. A moment later, that patch shimmered and a flat, tablet-like device appeared from thin air and he took it in one of his hands, the fingers on the other one flying like lightning across the screen. He then flipped the tablet around to show an amorphous shadow slipping around a corner in a strange, deserted land with red soil and a salmon-coloured sky, broken structures rising out of the earth.  
"The shadow that you just saw is Tartarus, the king of the Earthlords, who ruled the earth when it was first created. During the war of the Elders and the Earthlords, almost all of them were exterminated, except for three; Isis and Osiris, who were killed, ten thousand years ago, by Marethyu and Sophie."

They raised their heads and nodded in acknowledgement.

"The other was Tartarus. He was their king, and the oldest, the very first lifeform to be born on the planet's surface. During the war, he fled to the most distant, oldest Shadowrealm, or alternate, fabricated dimension that he could find. The Elders didn't dare to follow him there, so there he stayed, for nearly a million years. Now, I believe that he will return to this Shadowrealm, and soon."

Marethyu nearly jolted out of his seat. "But why? There's nothing here for him! I am the oldest out of all of you, and I have never heard of a reason for him to return!" White-blue sparks crackled along his hook in agitation.

Xpyiayoc turned his serpentine eyes towards the immortal. "But not even you knows everything." The Archon leaned forwards on the couch, pressing his fingertips together. "When the planet was first born out of the dust and rocks, before even Tartarus appeared, there was an entity, composed entirely out of energy, which lived at the planet's core. Its name… Is Gaia."

Xpyiayoc paused. "When the surface of the planet solidified, Gaia was trapped, at the core, and it went into slumber for four billion years. I believe that Tartarus wishes to wake Gaia."

Japan raised a hand politely. "But why? I do not know much. I have never heard of Archons, or Earthrords, or Gaia. But, if what you say is true, a being made entirery of energy would destroy the pranet, if it ever made its way to the surface."

"Zhat is unawesome!" Prussia yelled randomly from the background, and Joan turned around to shush him.

Tsagaglalal leaned forward. "In my husband's oldest texts, it is mentioned that Earthlords are much like Gaia themselves, except on a much smaller scale and hundreds of times weaker. If Gaia destroyed the planet, then I believe that Tartarus could harness the energy left over and use it to create a new race of Earthlords, only better. He would probably take his new army and rampage across the Shadowrealms, killing all the Elders, Great Elders, Archons, and Ancients left until all the dimensions and Shadowrealms would be ruled by Earthlords."

China shuddered. "That is scary, aru…" Portugal gave him a comforting hug around the shoulders, while Antarctica, who was sitting beside her, asked, "So why are you telling this to us? Why not tell this to the… Elders, or whatever their name is?"

Xpyiayoc turned his head towards the pale Nation. "Because, in these circumstances, this is the best collection of powerful auras that would willingly work together to save the planet. The Elders would simply fight among themselves until the planet is destroyed, along with them."

England, who was perched on the edge of his seat, asked, "So, when do you expect this Tartarus thing to come to Earth and make his way to the core?"  
Xpyiayoc nodded. "Tartarus will arrive at Litha, the summer solstice, when the boundaries between worlds are at their weakest. From there, it will take him maybe three days to reach the core."

Britain did the math in his head. "So… You're saying that we have exactly a week to save the world?"  
The entire room broke out in worried muttering. Xpyiayoc shrugged. "I never said that it would be easy."

A cacophony of terrified, worried, and plain crazy thoughts tumbled through Joan's mind, but she stood up and clapped her hands together sharply. "Then, we had better get started, no? Beginning with a full-length explanation for the Nations."

Xpyiayoc nodded and stood up as well, bending his torso in a stately bow. "Then, I shall take my leave. Farewell, my friends. I will see you again on the day of the apocalypse."

* * *

**Yay! Chapter six already! I actually took my inspiration for Gaia from a video game that I once played, where there was an entity named Dark Gaia at the core, who split the planet open. You get a virtual cookie if you guess which game that's from ^^**

**Anyways, I thought it would be fun to have a nice Archon, who has an impossible-to-type name…. -.-' And it would be awesome to bring back the Earthlords! ****I felt that we didn't see enough of them in the SotINF series… And don't worry, more Nation allies will coming in later, for cameos and helping out and such.**

**Well, you know the drill! Review, follow, and favourite!**

**(If you do anything, review please. I LOVE to get feedback)**

**Wuvs~**


	7. Chapter 7

(Joan's POV)

Joan sat in a small semicircle, along with the rest of the immortals, explaining everything to the countries. "…So, in conclusion, we have to save the world by using our auric abilities, and we have to train you to do it in only seven days. Any questions?" She asked brightly, ignoring the promise of Armageddon that was hovering over their heads.

The countries shook their heads, one after another. It almost seemed like they were used to this kind of drama and excitement. _Well, they probably are… _She mused. _Most of them are _way_ older than me… _

Joan stood up, clapped her hands, and announced, "Okay, so, can everyone go outside into France's backyard? For the countries that have already mastered their auras, we need to get a feel of how strong you are, and we need to give examples to the other countries as well."

With a wave of muttering and the occasional 'Ohonhonhonhonhon' from France, which caused everyone near him to back away slowly, except for Joan, the countries and immortals were shepherded outside, where they stood, waiting, in a neat line. Joan stood at the end, near France. She gestured at England to step forward.

"Okay, England, what kind of magic do you specialize in?" Sophie asked. She was standing at the front of the immortals."

"Well, I'm an adept. I don't have any mastery of elemental magic, but I know powerful spells."

"Good. Show us what you got."

England nodded, obviously trying not to look nervous. He closed his eyes, and a moment later, his black aura flared up around him, seemingly absorbing all the light that touched it. The strong odor of incense wove its way through the still summer air.

"What do you wish me to do?" He asked. When he opened his eyes, they were like onyx marbles, glittering dimly between his eyelids.

"Fight." Palamedes stepped forward. "Unless you're scared," He added.

England shook his head slowly. "Why would I be scared?" A moment later, a black ball of auric energy formed itself around his hand and England launched himself at the Saracen Knight.

Joan stared at the duel that was going on. "Palamedes is going to lose," She said absentmindedly. France leaned over her shoulder. "I agree. Angleterre is kicking his nicely shaped ass."

Without turning around, Joan slapped him on the face. "'Ey!" He protested. "Zat was uncalled for!"

"No it wasn't." She replied, still without looking around.

"Well, maybe not…"

A moment later, they stopped talking because England had completely immobilized Palamedes in a prison of hardened… _Is that grass? _Joan wondered. Palamedes struggled, trying to use his aura, but England completely stopped his power.

"England, you've won! You can stop now." Joan called. England glanced her way, then blinked. His aura faded and Palamedes dropped to the ground, panting.

"Next time I won't go so easy on you," He grunted as England hauled him to his feet.

England winked. "Neither will I."

The rest of the immortals seemed impressed. "If this is the reach of your power, then maybe we have a chance!" Tsagaglalal proclaimed. "Portugal, you're up next. You'll be facing Saint-Germain, another Fire master."

As the duel went on, Portugal sending blasts of heat at Francis while Francis narrowly avoided them, Joan noticed that the countries that had fought seemed to easily outpace the immortals. _Is this because they're countries? Or are they just naturally powerful? _The answer came when Portugal finished off her duel, then Antarctica easily plowed Virginia Dare into the ground. _It must be because they're countries… Not everyone can be this strong…_

Joan jolted out of her reverie and clapped her hands sharply. "Okay! That was great, everyone. Now, the rest of the immortals will teach you how to bring your aura into view and form it into armour. Once we do the basics, we'll have to bring you to an Elder who can Awaken you, so that you will be able to use the full range of your powers. England, Antarctica, and Portugal obviously had centuries to refine their abilities, but, since we don't have that time, we'll have to find one tomorrow. Okay?"

There was a wave of muttered consents. Prussia opened his mouth to speak, but Joan immediately cut him off. "Yes, I know that this is awesome. And no, Scotland, you can't have a beer or two before we get started." She added to the redhaired Nation, who was about to start talking. "We need to focus."

The immortals split up and went to the different countries. Machiavelli was shoved over to the Italies by a grinning Aoife, as the author struggled and protested. When Italy saw the other Italian, he immediately broke into a huge smile and glomped Machiavelli around the waist. Romano spotted Aoife and was about to talk to her, presumably with several swear words and insults thrown into the dialogue, when Aoife broke him off and launched a tirade that put even Romano to shame.

Virginia and Billy stuck around America, and the three Americans started to chat excitedly, while Scathach made a beeline for Scotland, obviously trying to be subtle. Billy and America eyed her and laughed quietly, while Virginia looked on, rolling her eyes in disdain.

Telemann, Copernicus, Prussia, and Germany all teamed up in one group, although both Copernicus and Prussia kept on breaking in and shouting various things about being awesome, while the two Germans did their best to ignore them. Eventually, they both just decided to move a little ways away, not even looking at the Prussians.

China and Sun Yat-Sen had struck up a lively conversation, while Portugal and Antarctica hung around and watched, giving little pointers to both Sun and China at the same time.

Japan and Niten stayed close together, holding an incredibly polite and refrained conversation, until Prussia, who had taken to running around wildly, broke them apart and they simultaneously punched him in the face. They then grinned tentatively at each other and started a warmer conversation.

France, Canada, and England all hung back with Joan, watching the proceedings, until Tsagaglalal and Marethyu came up.

"Even though they have learned to bring their auras into view, there is still much they must know. May I steal Canada for a little while, please?" Tsagaglalal asked politely, her black hair falling over her back. Although she was ageing at a normal rate ever since she had given up Prometheus' aura to save Niten, two years before, she was still looking incredibly young and beautiful. Canada blushed slightly and walked off a little way with her, where they sat down to an earnest conversation. Marethyu strolled away with England, and Joan almost dreaded what would happen when the most powerful magical country had a conversation with the oldest and strongest immortal.

She was broken out of her thoughts when France flicked her head lightly. "That leaves just me," He said with a twinkle in his vivid blue eyes. "It's better you than Saint-Germain, over there." He added with a jerk of his head in Francis' direction. Joan turned and saw that he was right; Francis was glaring daggers at the Nation.

"Oh, come on then," She replied with a sigh. "We may as well get started."

*Time skip brought to you by Flying Mint Bunny*

Several hours later, in the early evening, Joan was proud to learn that every single Nation had learned how to bring their aura into view, along with how to make it into armour and a few other basic tricks. She gazed out over the countries, who were doing mock duels with each other. Italy's bright amber aura was flaring up as he randomly created some uncooked pasta in midair, then sent it like darts through the air at Romano, whose darker amber aura quickly moulded itself into armour to protect himself. A few meters away, Germany and Prussia were using their nearly identical gray auras to add speed and strength to their usual punches and kicks. Joan winced as Prussia used a gauntleted hand to punch Germany in the gut, and as the younger Nation stumbled back, Prussia leaped up and performed a roundhouse kick into his chest. Germany went flying, but quickly jumped up and used his fist to punch Prussia square in the jaw.

Japan had taken out his katana and had covered it with his navy blue aura, using it in his duel with France, who was trying to defend himself with a rose, for some reason. Japan neatly chopped the flower's stem in half, the plant smoking where the katana had touched it, and leaned over France, his katana at the other Nation's throat. All of the sudden, France jerked up and kissed him on the lips. Japan immediately recoiled with a surprised expression on his face, and France leaped to his feet, grinning triumphantly. Joan tried not to smile at his antics, then shifted her gaze to Canada and America.

Canada was kicking America's ass.

He had somehow pulled out a hockey stick and was using it to whale on America, who could only try to protect himself with his red aura. "Maple! Maple! Maple!" Canada shouted each time that his stick made contact, his eyes wild and his cheeks flushed with anger.

A little ways away, China had paused in his duel with Portugal, who was going VERY easy on him, and they both watched as Canada chased America around France's backyard. China's forest green aura faded, along with Portugal's golden red one, and they both settled down on the grass to watch the show.

Someone tapped on Joan's shoulder and she started, then turned around. England hovered over her shoulder. Joan gestured at the ground beside her, and when England had settled down, she asked, "What is it, England?"

"I think that I know two more Nations that can help us; Norway and Romania. They are both magical countries as well, and they specialize summoning and transformation, two things that could be useful."

Joan nodded. "True… But we're in France! How would we get from Norway, to Romania, and back, without taking a plane? Even the nearest ley line is miles away."

England grinned. "Just leave that up to me." He turned around and called out to the immortals, who were watching the duels, "Joan and I are going for a quick walk, okay? We'll be right back."

The immortals nodded back without even looking their way.

England offered Joan his arm, and the two walked away, Joan blissfully unaware of France's hurt gaze boring into her back.

**Meeeh! Sorry for the stupid filler chapter, people… I just felt that I needed to have at least one with their training and the duels and everything… And I'm gonna introduce two more characters soon! I have so many! D: But oh well… I'll live! **

**Review, follow, and favourite! Wuvs~**


	8. Chapter 8

(Joan's POV)

England and Joan were walking side by side, close to the edge of France's property, heading towards the small gate that was set in the very back of his yard. The stars were barely beginning to come out over our heads. and the first few rays of the moon were just beginning to peek over the horizon. Behind them, flashes of coloured lights, occasional whiffs of some exotic odor, and a few grunts and shouts here and there informed Joan that the duels were still going strong.

"You see", England began, "All countries have an innate ability to walk to each other's houses, whether it is inland or overseas, in only a few minutes. We don't-"

England was suddenly interrupted by Antarctica, who had followed us from where the duels were. "Hi England! Heya, Joan!" The pale Nation said. "Do you mind if I join you?"

England paused. "Not at all, Antarctica," He replied while Joan shook her head.

"Okay! Thank you! You're going to get Norway and Romania, right?" Antarctica said brightly.

Joan nodded. "Yes, how did you know?"

She shrugged. "I just guessed. We're going to need all the aid that we can get in the fight, and Norway and Romania are the other two magical countries. It wasn't all that hard to infer that you're going to get their help."

"True…"

"And also, I just wanted to say hi." Antarctica grinned, and Joan couldn't help but smile back at the Nation's friendliness, while England seemed surprised that Antarctica was being so welcoming and unshy towards Joan.

England coughed into his hand to interrupt the incoming girl-talk. "So, as I was saying, we can walk hundreds or even thousands of miles in only several minutes. And, once we get out this gate," He added ", I can show you."

Joan smiled at him. "Sounds good to me."

Antarctica added, "I know! I haven't seen Norway in ages; it would be nice to be with him again."

"Really? Why?"

Antarctica blushed slightly. "We've been dating for about a year now."

"Really? That's great! How is he?"

"Hate to interrupt the chat, ladies, but it's time to get going", England broke in, obviously not liking the fact that he was being ignored by the two women.

The two women ignored him and kept on talking.

England sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then started walking in the general direction of Romania. Joan and Antarctica trailed after him happily as they continued their chat, ranging quickly from Norway to tricks with ice to what Antarctica was like, because Joan had never been there.

"Oh, it's great!" Antarctica assured her. "My homeland is cold and a bit uncomfortable sometimes, but during the summer, the midnight sun is so beautiful and the penguins are so cute!" She gushed. They then proceeded to start fangirling over various other cute animals when England tapped them both lightly on the foreheads.

"We're here," He announced.

Joan glanced up and stopped, her eyes widening, as she took in what was in front of her. In the space of only a couple of minutes, they had gone from France's backyard to in front of an imposing castle that loomed over the Romanian countryside.

"What… What is this place? It looks like Vlad the Impaler's castle…" Joan asked, then shuddered. She had met Vlad only once before, and she had immediately hated him.

England laughed. "No, this is simply Romania's house. Let's go up and give him a visit."

The three immortals walked up in a small cluster to the huge, wooden, front doors that were situated in the centre of the front wall. As Joan and Antarctica stared around at the stone walls and crimson-red banners fluttering in the small breeze, England took the black knocker set in the wood and thumped it on the door three times, the dull sound echoing around in the silence. A few moments later, the door creaked open slightly and a slender man with large, dark eyes, auburn hair, and a pale face peered out.

"Who is it- Oh! England! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" The man stepped out from behind the door and smiled, to reveal two unnaturally long and sharp canines jutting down over his lower teeth. Joan squeaked in surprise, and at that moment, Romania noticed the two other people with England.

"Oh, hello Antarctica! And- Excuse me; I believe that I do not know your name."

Steeling herself, Joan stepped forward and tentatively offered her hand. "My name is Jeanne d'Arc." She replied in a small voice.

"A please to meet you, Jeanne." Romania answered, taking her hand. "I am Romania. And don't worry;" He added. "I don't bite."

Joan smiled slightly and shook Romania's hand, then stepped back. Romania turned to England.

"So, what is it that you need?"

"We need you to help us prevent the end of the world."

"Oh. I suppose that you'd better come in then."

*Time skip brought to you by romaine lettuce **(A/N My computer keeps on wanting to call Romania Romaine… Damn you autocorrect! D:)***

"…And so, that's why we need you to come with us to Norway, then back to France. We need to stop Tartarus before he can awaken Gaia." England finished. The four were sitting on comfortable leather couches in Romania's living room, in front of a blazing fire. Romania nodded.

"Well, I suppose that I don't have much choice in the matter. The more auras, the better, am I right?"

Antarctica nodded. "Then, will you come with us?"

"Of course! If we only have a week to save the world, then we'd better head immediately to Norway, right?"

"Exactly." Joan replied. "Let's get going."

The four walked through Romania's doors and turned towards the northwest. As one, they stepped forwards and began walking, the landscape blurring around them. Joan gazed around her; it was the first time that she had actually been paying attention while the Nations traveled. Although, around them, it seemed like they were only going at normal walking speed, Joan could see the world around them warping to accommodate their speed, hills, mountains, and even seas passing in a matter of minutes. Soon, they were all standing in front of Norway's house, the cold air swirling around them, and Antarctica had bounded forwards to knock on his door. As they waited, Joan was zoning out and staring at the horizon when she heard England begin to speak to her left. "Of course, don't worry, Flying Mint Bunny! We'll make it! Of course we can trust the immortals, what are you talking about? Don't be so silly!" Joan turned to England and was about to ask him who… 'Flying Mint Bunny' was when she saw that England was talking to thin air. _Thin air. _Joan turned away and had started to wonder about her friend's sanity when the door opened and Antarctica glomped the newcomer around the shoulders.

He was tall and thin, with pale blonde hair falling down over his deep blue eyes and navy blue clothes. He had a clip shaped like a cross holding some of his hair back, there was a curl that seemed to be… Floating… Beside his face, and a sailor's hat rested on his head.

"Oh… Hallo, Taya. Why are you here?"

Antarctica pecked him on the cheek and replied, "Hi Lukas! We're here because we need your help to save the world!"

Norway seemed startled. "Is that so? Oh, hallo, England, Romania," He added, noticing the other two Nations. "And you are…?"

"I'm Jeanne d'Arc." She replied with a small smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you as well," Norway replied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He turned back to England and Romania. "Now, can you please explain why you need to save the world?"

*Time skip brought to you by romaine lettuce, part two*

The group of immortals sat in a warm room, richly carpeted with furs with several torches lining the wall. A painting of what looked like a green giant with vines coiling around its arms and body rested on the far wall. As Joan watched, the painting reached out, snatched a fly that was circling near its face, and ate it. Joan hastily turned away, just as England, Antarctica, and Norway were finishing their conversation.

"So, that's what you need? You need me to help teach these immortals my skills, and then you need me to fight? I suppose that I had better come along, no?"

"Yes. We need your help, as one of the few magical countries." England stated.

Antarctica stood and pulled Norway up with one of her hands. "Come on, Norge! It'll be fun!"

Norway looked at her. "Giving away my skills and then entering a fight that could, and probably will, kill me?" A slow smile spread across his face. "Sounds like this will be the most fun that I've had in centuries."

Joan clapped her hands together. "Then, it's settled. We have assembled a group of the most powerful countries, and some of the friendliest and strongest immortals and a couple of Next Generation. If I was Tartarus… I would be very scared." She finished, grinning.

England just laughed and pulled them all out the door, where they casually strolled across a sea to get back to France. But, while they were walking, they were all dreading what was coming in the next seven days…

Some of the craziest countries put together, in close quarters, for a week… When they couldn't even have a world meeting without it dissolving into chaos. As they walked together back to France, one thought was in all of their minds… _Together, we will either save the world… Or destroy it._

**Oh god. What have I done? D: Mneh. Sorry for the stupid filler chapter, peoples! I knew that there had to be at least one, but this was an especially boring one… So, after this, I will have about seven more (longer) chapters, one for each of the days, and then maybe two for the final battle and an epilogue. So, I still have a long ways to go… Oh well. At least, when this is done, I can get back to my other stories-in-progress that I abandoned for this….**

**Anyways, DO THE DRILL. DO IT. O.O I AM WATCHING YOU RIGHT NOW, SO DO THE DRILL.**

**Wuvs!~**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hai guyz! Sorry for the wait for the last two chapters… I've been traveling a lot, to places where I had either no computer or no WiFi, so I haven't been able to write in a long time… I'm also sorry that the last two chapters were stupid, boring filler chapters… I mean, every story needs to have at least a few, but I'm sorry that there were two grouped so close together… Anyways, I think that things are looking up now! See you at the end of the chapter!**

* * *

(Joan's POV)

When Joan, Antarctica, England, Romania, and Norway arrived back at France's mansion, the lawn was devoid of countries and the immortals were huddled in a tight group on the other side of the yard. Joan bade farewell to her new friends, leaving them to walk together into the house, heads bent together and talking together quietly. Joan watched them go for a moment, then turned away and strode briskly across the short grass to the huddle of immortals. The sun had recently set, by the look of things, and the horizon was still bright with an orangey shade, leaving just enough light for Joan to see. A few thin, wispy clouds were scudding across the darkening sky and everything felt so calm, so peaceful, that Joan allowed herself to relax for the few moments left until she plunged back into reality.

When she neared the immortals, Joan heard a few raised voices rising above the huddle of bodies.

Palamedes: "Are you crazy! She'll eat them, and the ones that she doesn't eat, she'll save for later!

Aoife: "She can try. I'm fairly sure that the countries will be able to fend for themselves. And besides, we and the magical countries will be there, won't we? We have Marethyu, Sophie, and England. I don't think that much can go wrong."

Francis: "You have a point, but isn't it better to be safe rather than sorry? What happens if one of the countries gets hurt?"

Copernicus: "Pfft. Even if zhey do, zhey'll just heal, no? Prussia told me zhat's vat happens if zhey get hurt."

Shakespeare: "Actually, England said something about them only healing if they are on their home territory, so to speak. It might be unwise, to have to cart them back and forth to their homelands."

Joan decided that it was time to intervene.

"Excuse me, but what are you talking about?" She asked politely. Francis turned to her.

"Ah, Joan, there you are! Where were you?"

Joan smiled a little and squeezed between him and Scathach. "Well, England, Antarctica, and went to Norway and Romania. They're the other two magical Nations, and they said that they can teach you skills that you might not have known about."

Francis gaped. "How did you get all the way across Europe in only a few minutes!?"

Joan winked. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Then, changing the subject, Joan asked, "So, what exactly were you debating about, again?"

Palamedes leaned forward. "Well, we were simply trying to decide which Elder that we could take them to, so that they could get Awakened. Telemann had just suggested Black Annis before you came."

Joan frowned, confused. "Do they even need to be Awakened? I mean, judging by the progress that they've made in just a few hours, I think that we don't even need to do that. They can simply… Progress naturally, I suppose."

Marethyu nodded. "Yes, they have improved their abilities at an amazing rate, but there is still much that they need to lean, in a very short amount of time. The only way to stop their minds from collapsing is Awakening them, so that they may access their full range of abilities."

Joan shrugged. "When you put it that way…"

"…It makes much more sense." Scathach finished, and Joan nodded in agreement.

"Well, then, couldn't you or Marethyu do it, Sophie? You definitely have the power and skill."

Sophie shook her head. "We already discussed that. It seems that Awakening is an ability held by only certain Elders, and we've found no way to replicate it."

Joan turned back to the group. "So, if location was no issue, which Elders do we know, that are _friendly," _Stressing the last word, ", that can Awaken auras?"

"I have heard that Inanna was staying in Turkey recently," Niten offered.

"Amaterasu was seen on Shikoku."

"I heard that Anextiomarus was in Southern Ireland."

After that, the voices stopped.

"That's all? Only three friendly, safe Elders that can Awaken?" Joan demanded.

"Oh, safe? Never mind about Anextiomarus, then." Virginia Dare said, a touch sheepishly. Joan nodded.

"I thought not. Last time I heard, he was insane." Joan replied. She looked around at the little group. "So, only two Elders that we can trust."

They nodded, seeming a bit depressed.

A slow grin broke out across Joan's face. "This has to be the first time that I'm happy we're not liked."

The rest of the immortals smiled cautiously, and when Joan beckoned them, they started plan out the next week. Eventually, after nearly an hour of debating, prodding, cajoling, and occasional brawling, the immortals put down their ideas to a list.

* * *

_Step 1: Go to Japan and have Amaterasu awaken Nations_

_Step 2: Care take Nations in their post-Awakening, catatonic state_

_Step 3: When they wake up, spend rest of Day 1 teaching them more tricks and spells. Have Antarctica and Portugal help with Elemental abilities_

_Step 4: Day 2. Send countries out in small groups, always with one magical country with them, while Norway and Romania stay behind to teach us_

_Step 5: Repeat Step 4 for rest of week, but also send out scouts in groups to try and find out where Tartarus will Awaken Gaia_

_Step 6: Go to where Tartarus will Awaken Gaia_

_Step 7: Kick some ancient, extremely powerful ass_

* * *

Joan read the list out loud to the immortals, the stars beginning their nightly trek across the sky, and they each declared their satisfaction with the plan. As the group dissolved, Joan turned around to find that France was standing directly behind here and she nearly walked into him. "Oh!" She said, surprised. France bent over a little and put his mouth next to her ear.

"Very nicely done, _ma cherie._" He whispered, and rested his hand on her shoulder for the barest moment. He then straightened up and called, "_Mes amis!~ _You can all stay at my house, for ze night! I 'ave plenty of rooms and beds, but I am afraid zhat zhere are not enough beds for everyone to have zheir own! Several couples will have to share, if zhey do not mind." **(A/N Did I do the French accent right? It's sad… I know how to speak French, but I have no clue how to write a French accent… -.-')**

The immortals glanced at each other briefly, then each nodded their consent and started to trek up to the back of France's house. France turned to go, but then paused and looked back. "If you wish, _ma cherie, _you can share my bed tonight." He said quietly, his cerulean eyes shining in the dark.

Joan could feel a blush warming her cheeks. "No thank you, France. I'm married, and besides, I know how you can get." She then turned away, doing her best to squash the little voice that was saying, _But you wouldn't mind sharing his bed, would you? _

Running to catch up the immortals, she joined their little party and entered France's mansion to, yet again, a complete mess. _Here we go again, _Joan thought with a groan, completely exasperated. _Can't the countries ever be alone in a room without creating complete chaos!? _Sighing, she plunged into the fray, with the rest of the immortals.

Machiavelli practically sprinted over to the Italies, the Southern part swearing his head off, sometimes using swear words that Joan had never heard of. She could hear Machiavelli muttering, "What the hell is a 'pus filled dick blister'?", as he dragged the Northern part away, who was formerly trying to give Romano 'hug therapy' and had rapidly switched his attack to Machiavelli, who immediately paled and stiffened. Germany and Telemann watched nearby.

"Should ve help him?" Joan heard Germany say to Telemann.

"Nope. Just watch, and enjoy."

Joan smiled when she noticed that Germany seemed a bit offended to not be the target for Italy's hugs.

Her smile immediately faded when she noticed Prussia and Copernicus, both watching Germany and stifling snorts. She was about to go over and whack them on the heads, several times, when Niten and Japan rose up behind them and gave them her intended punishment. Tearing her gaze away from those conflicts, Joan glanced around to see if there were any parties that needed help/to be reprimanded.

In the corner, Scotland and Scathach were chatting happily, the two redheads completely absorbed in their conversation, while beside them, America and Antarctica were grinning together at the ginger's obvious infatuation. Meanwhile, across the room, England, Romania, Norway, Marethyu, Tsagaglalal, and Sophie were all talking together intensely, about, Joan presumed, magicy things. Her suspicions were confirmed, when, as one, their auras flared and an earthquake rocked the house, adding even more chaos to the already chaotic countries. While people like Canada, Portugal, Sun Yat-Sen, and China were sensible and clung to the banisters of the stairs, people like Italy, France, and Billy started screaming, running around, waving their arms wildly, and bumping into things. Germany seized Italy by the arm, Virginia tackled Billy from behind, and that left either Francis or Joan to take care of France.

Joan glanced at Francis. He was completely ignoring France, chatting mostly calmly with Aoife as the earthquake rumbled on.

Joan set her mouth in a grim line and started across the room. Weaving her way around several bundles of immortals and countries, Joan came up from behind France and pushed off the ground, leaping at him and tackling him around the waist. France immediately collapsed and fell to the ground, his blue aura flaring up a moment before he hit to protect himself. Joan got up, dusted herself off, and turned around. Seeing that the countries and immortals were mostly subdued, she raised her voice above the silence that had filled the room after the earthquake subsided, moments before, and spoke with intensity.

"Two things. First; Never, _ever, _create an earthquake or any other kind of damaging magic in this house. You are _extremely _lucky that nothing was damaged and nobody was hurt. Never do that again, do you hear me!?"

The group of countries and immortals, who were all centuries, if not millennia, older than her nodded, looking sheepish. Joan turned to the rest of the immortals/Nations **(A/N Okay, from now on, if I'm talking about them in a group, I'm gonna call the Nations and immortals just Immortals, with a capital, because they're all immortal, no?) **And began to speak again. "And, since it seems that none of you are able to decide for yourselves, _I'll _decide who sleeps where. France, how many beds do you have?"

He looked startled. "Um, 20. All queen sized or higher."

Joan turned away. "Good. Then, I'll sleep with Francis. Palamedes and Shakespeare, you share, and Germany and Italy will share as well. Norway and Antarctica will be together, Aoife and Niten will be together, and so will Billy and Virginia. Portugal and China, you can share, and so can England and America. Scathach and Scotland? You're together, and so are you, Marethyu and Sophie. Telemann can be with Machiavelli, Prussia can be with Copernicus, and Japan can be with Canada."

"Who?" America muttered, and Joan shot him a glare.

"Tsagaglal, Sun Yat-Sen, France, Romania, and Romano will all be alone. Does that cover everyone?"

Looking around the room, she saw silent nods of agreement, and Joan clapped her hands together, making some of the shyer Immortals jump. "Good. Now that we all have that sorted out, everyone go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow!"

With mutters of agreement, appreciation, and even awe, the Immortals dissolved and headed off to separate bedrooms. Joan could hear France get up behind her. "Once again, _ma cherie, _you impress me. Good work."

Joan smiled a little at his praise, then headed off to her room with Francis. It had been a long day, and she was tired.

* * *

Later on, as she slid under the covers, Joan murmured, "Should I have warned them that I'm a chronic sleepwalker?"

"Nah. They'll find it out, sooner or later."

"For better or for worse."

"Exactly."

Joan smiled and Francis leaned over to kiss her goodnight. He then rolled over, switched off the light, and whispered, "Good night. I love you."

"Love you too." Joan whispered back. But, as her husband rolled over and his breathing slowed, one thought kept on plucking at Joan's mind.

_But what if I don't love him the most?_

* * *

**Le gasp! The drama! The intrigue! The romance! How dramatic!**

**Pfft, not really. That was just my failed attempt at romance -.-'**

**So, once again, I'm really, **_**really **_**sorry for the delayed chapters. I intend to be updateing a lot more, now that I'm back, so you can count on more often chapters from me. Don't worry! :D**

**And also, I would really like to thank Bright Misdreavus, Doom the Sandwich, Ennke, Fem America 13, PaintingMornings, Time Traveler, and sweet magic gal for following this story, Ennke animaniac-aizel012, and sweet magic gal for favouriting, and betsybugaboo for being my only reviewer. Your feedback means a LOT to me, and your thanks are long overdue.**

**So, anyways, you know the drill! Wuvs~**


	10. Chapter 10- Day 1 Part 1

(Joan's POV)

Early the next morning, Joan slowly blinked open her eyes to the first rays of dawn shining through the window. As sensation gradually returned to her heavy, half-asleep body, Joan became slowly aware that there was a pair of arms hugging her from behind, around the waist. Her mouth curled into a smile. _Good. That means that I didn't sleepwalk last night. _Closing her eyes, she wriggled around and leaned forward to give her husband a peck on the forehead. Francis mumbled something indecipherable in his sleep and his arms tightened around her. Smiling again, she slowly opened her eyes to look at Francis' sleeping face.

It wasn't Francis.

France's blue eyes were tightly shut, and his chest rose and fell gently as he breathed, still deeply asleep. Joan stared at him. _Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap. _**(A/N Ohonhonhonhon~)**

Quick as a thought, Joan grasped the mattress cover and pushed up on it, making herself slide down and out of France's grasp. Once freed, she paused for a moment, listening. France grumbled something, his leg twitched, and he rolled over, settling down. Within a matter of moments, he was sound asleep again. Joan breathed a sigh of relief and started to pick her way out from under the heavy, stifling covers, trying to spread her weight out whenever she could so that France wouldn't feel the mattress bending under her weight. Within only a few moments, Joan's bare feet hit the hard floor and she practically sprinted out of the room. She flew down the hall, slid down a banister, skidded around a corner, and burst into her room as quietly as possible (if one can burst into a room quietly). She arrived just in time to see Francis blink open his eyes. Quick as a flash, hoping that Francis hadn't seen or heard her, Joan spun around, ran out of the room, down a different hall, through the kitchen where she grabbed some tea that China had already made and was about to drink, and out the back door, ignoring China's cry of "Hey, aru! That's _my _chai tea!"

_Sorry, China, _Joan thought as she plunked herself down on the grass. Taking deep, quick breaths, Joan allowed herself to relax slightly for the first time that day. _Why does France have so many goddamned halls!? _She thought to herself as she took a sip of tea. _And why, god, WHY am I a sleepwalker? _Joan groaned in despair. Even if France didn't remember her late-night jaunt in his bed, Francis almost certainly saw her burst into the room, then spin out again with a guilty expression on her face.

_God, why me!? _Joan dropped her head into her arms.

"Hey. Are you alright?" She heard an accented voice say behind her. When she didn't look up, the person walked over and sat down beside her. Joan glanced up, only to have her eyes widen in surprise when she saw Prussia sitting beside her. He glanced her way.

"Why are you sad? Zhat's unawesome!" He protested, and Joan could feel a small smile picking at the corners of her mouth. She sighed.

"I'm not sad, I'm just… Confused…"

Prussia nodded knowingly, his maroon eyes glinting. "Confused about France unt Saint-Germain?"

Joan looked up in surprise. "You could tell?"

Prussia snorted. "Of course! Anyone as awesome unt all-knowing as me could tell zhat you vere having problems vith your love life!"

Joan blushed. "It's not my love life! I'm married, and I hadn't seen France in over five centuries when I met him again! I know that I love Francis, it's just that…"

"You do not know whether you rove him more than France." A quiet voice said behind her, and then Japan walked into her field of view and knelt down.

"It's-a okay! That's a hard-a thing to decide!" Italy sang, skipping in front of her.

Joan stared at all of them. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Nope! Unless we're turned human, then we have-a to sleep!"

"You can be turned human!?"

"Yes." Germany replied from behind her. "It happened, just vonce, in a mansion-"

"Prease, don't remind me about the mansion." Japan interrupted with a shudder. Joan had to bite her tongue to restrain her flow of questions.

"_Minha amiga, _you will know who you love the most!" Portugal said, walking around and laying a hand on Joan's shoulder. "You have to be brutally honest with yourself, which can be hard, but your heart will know the answer. I was confused for centuries between Austria and China before I was able to choose." She said, speaking lightly and cheerfully.

"Don't worry about it, eh." Canada said, kneeling down on her left side. His dark blue eyes glowed warmly. "Take your time. Things like this… You can't decide them in a matter of moments. It's okay to wait, eh!"

"Who are you?" Kumajiro said, his little polar bear face peering up at her curiously. Joan simply smiled in reply.

Joan looked up around the little group of Nations, all who were offering her their support and trust. _I was unsure before, but… These ancient, powerful Nations are just as dear to me as the rest of the immortals_

She smiled up at her group of friends. "Thank you. I will have to decide, but… I don't think that now is the best time. Maybe when we've defeated Tartarus… But, in the meanwhile, let's go and wake up those sleepyheads in the worst way possible!"

Prussia grinned evilly. "I know just zhe trick."

Twenty minutes later, Joan and Italy were standing in front of America and England's room. For the last while, they had been sneaking around, hiding hamburgers under the pillows of every single bed. They had also stationed a fan in each room and set it on high, letting it blow the smell of the burgers out of the rooms until it filled the entire house. **(A/N I think you get the idea…) **They had also based Nations outside of each door, armed with fire extinguishers ready to spray. Within the next minute, they would open America's door and let all hell break loose. _Yes, it's immature, _Joan thought, _but it's also probably going to be the most fun that I've had in years._

"Go! Go!" Joan whispered to Italy, who grinned and crept off to Telemann and Machiavelli's room. Joan, stifling her giggles, set up a camera facing into America and England's room, gently pulled open the door, and snuck off to Francis' room.

Within moments, a shout of 'HAMBURGERS!' shook the house and America scrambled out of the room, followed by a trail of curses that made Joan want to scrub her ears. Down the hall, Joan could see America pause, turn, then set off at a sprint directly into Marethyu and Sophie's room. Joan winced. "Good luck, Japan…" She murmured. A moment later, America burst out of the bedroom with his prizes, stuffed them into his mouth, and ran away again. Marethyu and Sophie, looking equally confused and annoyed, had barely exited to room when Japan nailed them with a blast from his extinguisher, then sprinted away to Scotland and Scathach's room. Joan giggled at their stunned, foamy, gasping faces, and quickly slipped around the corner so that they wouldn't see her. In the meanwhile, America, having rudely awakened Tsagaglalal, barreled straight to Francis' room. Joan had barely enough time to jump out of the way. A moment later, America exited again, ignoring her, and ran to Scotland and Scathach. Francis trailed after him, and the moment that he stepped out of the room, Joan liberally doused him with her fire extinguisher.

Francis paused, stumbled, and wiped the foam out of his eyes. "Joan? What are you-"

Joan interrupted him. "You were taking too long to get up, so we decided to take matters into our own hands!" She replied, grinning cheekily. Francis frowned, then shook his head in awe. "I've known you for so long, but I still know you so little…" Joan grinned again, then headed away to Antarctica and Norway's room.

Within ten minutes, everyone except for the pranksters was thoroughly awake, thoroughly covered in foam, and thoroughly annoyed. Joan and the rest of the countries that had helped her were hiding up on the roof and laughing together when everyone else was searching for them through the house, in equal parts cajoling, pleading, and cussing.

"You should-a have seen Machiavelli's face!" Italy giggled. "He was-a looking all angry, and it was scary! But then-a he just started to smile and laugh, and-a he wasn't scary any more!"

Joan laughed. "Really? You should have seen Antarctica and Norway!~ They were the last ones that America got to… It was hilarious! America leaped up on the bed, practically _punched _Norway out of the way, and got the burger, but when he tried to get at Antarctica's, she _froze _his legs solid for a moment and he just kinda collapsed on top of her… Her face afterwards! She was blushing so hard; Romano would have been impressed…"

Germany didn't smile, exactly, but his face looked a little less stern. "I believe that Antarctica may like America."

Japan nodded. "I berieve that as werr."

Canada laughed nervously. "That might get to be a little uncomfortable…"

"There you are, you *this section has been removed as it has been deemed too inappropriate by the author*!" Romano shouted. Italy leaned precariously over the side. "There-a you are, fratello!"

"You'd-a better get down-a here! Everyone's fucking majorly pissed at you, Veneziano! And there's this weird glowy bitch here, says she wants to see us!"

Joan paled. "We'd better come down." She said, speaking quickly and quietly. "Amaterasu's here."

The Nations and Joan quickly assembled themselves on the front lawn. The foamed Nations had mostly managed to clean themselves off, but there were clumps in Antarctica's hair and stains in all of their clothes. Joan grimaced and shot Antarctica an apologetic look. Antarctica hesitated for a moment, then smiled and nodded. She understood. Joan breathed out a sigh of relief, then walked over to join the immortals, avoiding everybody's eyes. She looked down at her feet for a moment, embarrassed, then raised her gaze and stared at Amaterasu, who had just joined them on the lawn.

She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature that Joan had ever seen.

Amaterasu was tall, almost eight feet, and inhumanly slender with vivid amber eyes, long, night-black hair, and high, striking cheekbones. A river of glowing marks ran across her skin, starting at her left hand, curling around her arm, disappearing into her white dress, them reappearing around her collarbones, where the marks twisted around her neck before climbing onto her face. Each mark looked like a different Japanese symbol, and all of them shone like fire. When she saw Japan, Amaterasu bowed slightly. "Nihon. I have not seen you in many years. It is a pleasure to see your face again." She said warmly. Japan bowed back. "Konnichiwa. The pleasure is mine, Sun Goddess."

Amaterasu turned to the rest of the Nations. "And you must be the other nations that Japan has spoken about. May I know your names?"

England stepped forward. "Greetings. My name is England."

"An' I'm Scotland, lassie."

"Antarctica, and this is Portugal."

"China, aru!"

"I am Prussia zhe Awesome!"

"Ohonhonhon~ My name is France, but you can call me anything you like." France said, a mischevious grin on his face. Joan elbowed him.

"Hallo. I am Norway."

"Romania. At your service, my good lady."

"I'm-a Italia Veneziano, and this-a is Italia Romano!"

"Guten tag. I am Germany."

"Hey, dudette! I'm America the Hero!"

"I-I'm Canada, eh…"

Amaterasu paused. "A pleasure to meet you all. Now, Tsagaglalal the Watcher contacted me and informed me that Tartarus is planning to return to this Shadowrealm, to awaken Gaia. Is this correct?"

They all nodded, and Amaterasu clapped her hands together. "Then, you are right! I have looked at you, and you all have good souls. You are the hope for this world. Therefore, I will now begin the Awakening process, so that you may access the full range of your powers. How many must have your powers accessed?"

England stepped forward, the unofficial spokesperson for the Nations on magical matters. "All of us except for Antarctica, Portugal, Norway, Romania, and I."

Amaterasu nodded. "Very well. Although… I have never seen a Nation's aura before. Could you show me, please?"

England nodded, and a moment later, his black aura rising from his skin. Amaterasu stared.

"Fascinating. You are perhaps the only living being on this world with a black aura. What are the gold and silver lights, may I ask?"

England shrugged. "I have no idea. I have searched for an answer for most of my life, but I have never been able to find one. Not even a theory."

Amaterasu watched the aura for a moment longer, then turned to face the Nations. England's aura faded away behind her.

"Very well. Which one of you is the oldest?"

China stepped forward. "I am, aru."

Amaterasu closed her eyes. "Very well. China, what is your mother's name, your father's name, and your age?"

China blinked. "I never had a mother or father, and as for my age… 4024 years, I believe."

Amaterasu threw her head back. "China, son of none, you have lived 4024 years on this world. Your kind has long forgotten the abilities and powers that they once had, but on this day, they will be Awakened, and you will begin to truly live for the first time…."

**(A/N I know that the words for the Awakening aren't the same, but I'm too lazy to check them…)**

*Time skip brought to you by Amaterasu*

Nearly an hour later, the countries were all lying, passed out, on the ground. Amaterasu and the immortals watched them as they slept, weariness etched into the Elder's face. "It is done. The saviours have been Awakened. All that is left to see is whether their minds will be able to withstand the weight of their new burden."

"They will." Joan replied with conviction. "I don't know how, but they will."

Amaterasu clasped her hands together. "I believe you are correct. I have never seen auras like these… They are equally strong, if not stronger, than Gold and Silver auras. They are the only immortals that I know that have the life force and strength of an entire landmass to draw upon."

Joan nodded. "I agree. It's strange."

Amaterasu glanced down her way, just once, then turned to the rest of the immortals. "All of you, I must leave now. My power is weakened, and I must give it time to recover. Before I part, there is one thing that I must say." She paused, bowing her head, then raised it and began to speak again. "These Nations are the only hope for your world. I have looked into their spirits, and they have suffered many hardships before they came here. They have all caused, and ended wars, and all of them have died at least once before."

She walked around the Nations slowly. "Italy Veneziano. He is perhaps the bravest of them all, with a quiet determination and loyalty to his friends. He would, and has, gone through Hell many times over to make sure that they are all alive."

She walked on. "Germany. Although he is stern and can be harsh, in his soul he is supremely dedicated and will put anyone's life ahead of his own."

"Prussia. He has walked a hard path alone, with few rewards. And yet, despite of this, he still has the same character that he had a thousand years ago."

"Japan. Quiet, polite, courageous. If he is your friend, he will fight with and for you until he dies."

Amaterasu lingered at Japan for a moment longer, then turned away.

"Italy Romano. Bad-tempered, foul-mouthed, and rude, but all he wants is acceptance and affection."

"America. A true hero, he has saved many lives and will save many more. He is cheerful and warm-hearted, and putting him down only makes him brighter. Keep this in mind, England." She glanced up at the blonde Nation and he blushed.

"France. Although he is promiscuous and flirtatious, he is also like an older brother to so many of these countries. He is warm when they are cold, takes the hit when they are angry, and laughs when they cry, and it has made him a better person."

"China. He has lived so long, watched his empire fall to shambles, and felt himself weaken with every passing decade. However, he has never become bitter or cynical. All that he wishes is that he goes back to his former life, four thousand years ago.

"Scotland. Always fighting for his independence, always fighting his brothers, always fighting for his people. And yet, he is warm-hearted and loyal to England, Ireland, and Wales. If you wish to love him, he is a good choice, Scathach."

Scathach reddened and turned away, but not before Joan could see a smile on her face.

"And Canada. Sweet, lovable, quiet, gentle, and friendly Canada. And yet, people never recognize these qualities in him or always mistake him for others. He has never hated anyone for that, never harboured any resentment. And that gives him an inner strength that nearly none of the other Nations have."

Amaterasu turned away from the sleeping Nations and back to the remaining Immortals. "I have looked into their souls and seen this, and much more. If you have chosen these to be your saviours, you have made an excellent decision. Farewell."

She bowed her head and her tattoos flared to an almost unbearable brightness. Joan looked away, squinting, and when she looked back, the Sun Goddess was gone.

Billy was the first to break the resounding silence. "Well… That was strange."

**Yay! Chapter 10 already!**

**Sorry for the mushy character stuff, if you didn't like it. I just finished playing HetaOni for the first time, and it inspired me to write all that.**

**Italy Veneziano, you are my hero.**

**And tomorrow, the boring training and less boring other stuff begins! Yay!**

**Also, I would really like to thank PaintingMornings for all of her reviews. (One on each chapter!) Your feedback and praise really made me happy. ^^ So, thank you.**

**Wuvs!~**


	11. Chapter 11- Day 1 Part 2

(Joan's POV)

After some debate between the Immortals, it was decided that Joan, Scathach, and Tsagaglalal would watch over the sleeping Nations, passed out and sprawled on the lawn, while the rest of them went inside to decide which spells they would teach first to the Nations. Joan settled down on the dew-wet grass and stared off into the horizon, still a bit shocked by Amaterasu's appearance and words about the Nations. Tsagaglalal and Scathach did the same, although Scathach was shifting around like she was sitting on top of an ant's nest. All of the sudden, Scathach twisted around to face the other two and broke the silence that had hung over them.

"Um… Could… You two help me about something? Please? You're the only other two here that would know how I feel, and… I just need help…"

Tsagaglalal smiled. "Ask away. We will do our best to help you."

Scathach started to speak, her words tripping over themselves in their haste to escape. "Well, um, it's just, I really like Scotland, but I'm not sure if I love him because I've only known him for about a day, and I'm not sure that I should, because I'm a little old for him, I think, and I don't know if it's right, um, and-"

Joan cut her off. "Scathach. Don't worry about it. I can tell that you like him, and I'm fairly sure that he likes you as well. As for love… Well, some people have an instant connection and some people don't. To know, you will have to be brutally honest with yourself. You know, in your heart, whether you love him or not. You just have to take your time, ask yourself the question, and answer it as truthfully as possible. And, honestly, you don't have to worry about age or being a vampire." Joan said, unconsciously repeating Portugal's words from earlier.

"Yes, you're a ten-thousand year old vampire. No, you're not human. But Scotland is a…" Joan turned away to Tsagaglalal. "How old is Scotland?"

Tsagaglalal screwed up her eyes in concentration. "Umm… 1170 years, I think."

Joan turned back to Scathach. "Scotland is a 1170 year old living, breathing, personification of a country with an aura type that virtually nobody has seen before. He's just as strange as you, if not stranger. And besides, I'm pretty sure that he isn't, and never was, human as well."

Scathach managed a smile. "Well, when you put it that way…"

Joan clapped her on the shoulder. "It should be like that any way you think of it. Be patient. The answer will come."

They sat in silence for a while longer, watching the Nation's sleeping forms, until Tsagaglalal randomly asked, "Do any of you have a sharpie?"

"No. Why?"

"I was just thinking… If we drew mustaches on their faces while they were asleep, a good first trick to teach them might be how to remove things on and in the skin- Good for cleaning wounds, and stuff."

Joan stared at her. "You actually think we believe that you want to draw mustaches on their faces because it'll teach them."

Tsagaglalal stared back. "Yes."

Scathach nodded, a slow grin speading on her face. "Makes sense… Here, I'll go raid the mansion for some permanent markers." Lithe as a cat, she leaped to her feet and raced away to the back door. Joan and Tsagaglalal watched them go.

"After the mustaches and the foam, they'll probably hate us," Joan commented.

"Yup. But they'll get over it."

"I hope so…"

In the next moment, Scathach came racing back, breathing as lightly as before and triumphantly holding three black sharpies in her fist. With a flourish, she presented them to the immortals. "And voila! Our weapons of war!"

Tsagaglalal grinned evilly and took one of them in her hand. "They will rue the day that they ever met us..."

Rolling her eyes, a reluctant grin on her face, Joan took the other one and they snuck away to the Nations, giggling like schoolgirls. **(A/N Wow, they're doing a LOT of pranking today, no?)**

* * *

Joan snorted as she carefully drew an elegant fu Manchu on China's sleeping face, biting her tongue as she stepped back and admired her handiwork. _Perfect. _As an afterthought, she gave him a small, black, triangular goatee on the tip of his chin and carefully folded his hands into his overlarge sleeves. Giggling at his stern, completely ridiculous face, she crept away on her toes.

Moving on to Germany, she glanced up and saw Tsagaglalal giving Romano and Italy identical handlebars, while Scachach toiled over Japan, giving him a redneck 'stache that would make rednecks jealous. Joan shifted her gaze back to Germany. _Now, which kind of mustache should you have? A Hitler style one? How about Lieutenant Worf? _"Hmm…" Joan murmured. Suddenly, she was hit by a flash of inspiration and started to sketch out a huge, curled, handlebar Mexican-style mustache. _Oh, he's SO going to hate me when he wakes up… _She thought with glee. _But who cares anyways? _To finish the image, she scribbled a hideous neckbeard that dropped down from his neat sideburns and covered his neck and the tops of his collarbones like sharpied fur.

Creeping away from Germany, she tiptoed over to her final target: France. Pondering the breed of mustache that she should draw, Joan glanced over at the others and, seeing that they were already done, rapidly drew a Salvador Dali 'stache on France's face. When she was done, without thinking and acting on an impulse, she leaned forward and quickly dropped a light kiss on his forehead.

**Countdown to realization:**

**Three…**

**Two…**

**One…**

_Oh crap what did I just do!? _Joan thought, horrified. France's face, which had looked relaxed and vunerable moments ago, suddenly seemed to have a tiny smirk on it to her shocked eyes.

_Gaah! _Feeling Tsagaglalal and Scathach's smiling eyes boring into her back, Joan fled and sat down again, on the opposite side from France and a little ways away from her two companions. She could still feel them staring at her.

"Don't look at me!" She snapped, a blush blazing furiously on her cheeks.

Scathach sidled over to her insinuously and was probably about to tease her relentlessly when China, who was closest to them, groaned and started to shift around.

"He's waking up!" Scathach whispered. Joan gestured wildly at Tsagaglalal, her teasing smile and stare forgotten.

"China's nearly awake! She hissed. "Go get the others!"

Without hesitating, Tsagaglalal nodded and leaped up, then sprinted inside, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Hey! Everybody! Get the hell out here! China's awake!"

Joan groaned. "And I was hoping that she'd be a bit stealthier…"

"Mmpphh…. Hello, aru…"

Scathach grinned. "Hey there, old man. How are you feeling?"

China groaned a little more, and slowly opened his eyes. "You stink. And this grass…. It smells so weird! And what's wrong with your skin!? It has so many… marks on it, aru…"

A bird flew overheard, trilling out a song, and China yelped, clapping his hands over his ears. "Gah! Everything's so bright, and loud, and it smells horrible! How can you stand it, aru!?"

Joan smiled a little. "You get used to it. Although, if you like, Scatty here can take away a bit of the pain. Your senses will stay the same, but they won't bother you anymore. Nice mustache, by the way."

China nodded. "Yes, I would like that, aru- Hey, what do you mean, 'nice mustache'? I didn't have a mustache, last time I checked…."

Scathach nodded, biting her lip. "It's a magnificent fu Manchu. With a goatee."

"_Meu Deus! _What happened to your face!?" Portugal shrieked, spotting China's face after she emerged from the mansion. She ran over, her long hair flying in the breeze, and immediately began fussing over him. "China, ohmigosh, someone sharpied a mustache on to your face! Wait…" She shot a sharp glare at Joan and Scathach, who immediately assumed their most innocent faces. "Did you do this!?" Portugal demanded, sparks flying from her skin.

"No." Joan said.

"Yes." Scathach said at the same time.

"Maybe." Added Tsagaglalal, who had come up behind them.

Various other sounds of dismay and amusement sounded out around them as other countries woke up to their remade faces.

"You did do this, didn't you!?"

"Maybe."

"No."

"Yes."

She glared at them for another moment, then turned back to China. "Here, let me remove this-"

"No!" Tsagaglalal's arm shot out and caught Portugal's wrist. "They should remove it themselves. Everybody!" She shouted. "Don't try to take off the Nation's mustaches for them! They need to learn how to do it themselves!"

As one, the Immortals froze, and the few that were about to remove the sharpie ink slowly backed away. Nobody wanted to be on The Watcher's bad side, Joan noted with a tad of amusement.

Tsagaglalal turned back to China. "Now, let me tell you how to do it." Bending forward, she whispered something in China's ear, then settled back, crossed her legs, and gestured at China.

"Okay, aru…" He muttered, still obviously peeved about the mustache. Closing his eyes, a slight furrow appeared on China's brow and a moment later, his forest green aura appeared and the fragrant, spicy odor of incense drifted around them. His eyes opened with surprise, and he exclaimed, "It's so much easier now, aru!"

Joan nodded and smiled. "That's what the Awakening does. It makes it easier and faster to access your aura, and it unlocks its full potential."

"Oh…"

"Now, remember what I told you, China." Tsagaglalal chastised.

"Right, aru."

China closed his eyes again and his aura flared brighter. His skin where it was touched with the felt emanated a bright, almost blinding light, and the ink simply fell of in a hail of little black flecks. He cracked open one eye. "Is it gone, aru?"

Scathach grinned. "Completely. No more mustache for you, my friend."

China exhaled with relief. "Thank god…" Standing up, he hugged Portugal tightly and pecked her on the cheek. "Did you see that, aru!?"

"Sure did." She replied, grinning.

Joan leaned over to Tsagaglalal. "What did you say to him?" She asked in a low voice.

"I told him that he looks hideous." She replied.

"Hey! I worked hard on that look!"

The Watcher simply winked and turned to face the rest of the countries. "If China can do that, so can you! As you focus, just remember one thing; you all look disgusting with facial hair. Especially you, Germany." She added, grinning cheekily.

"If you vern't stronger zhan me, I vould be attacking you right now…" He muttered, closing his eyes.

Ten seconds later, all mustaches were completely gone. Japan was the fastest, having his redneck 'stache gone within half a second, while Scotland took the longest time, grumbling something about how it disnae look 'alf bad, lassie before he managed to take it off.

"So, what was the point of that?" America asked grumpily. "You gave us mustaches, and 'poof', they're gone. Why?'

"Because it can be extraordinarily handy in a fight." Scathach replied.

"Wha? Removing sharpie is?'

"No. Removing things from on and in your skin is good, for cleaning wounds, getting things that are stuck in eyes out, and making yourself clean after a long day at war. Trust me; I would know."

"And vhat about zese… Veird sense zhings? Are zhese to teach us too? Zhat's unawesome, mädchen…" Prussia muttered.

"Ah. Yes. About that. Aoife and I can help."

"Vhat? How?"

"We're vampires." She replied bluntly.

Romania grinned in happy surprise while France immediately scrambled back a few paces. "_Non! _You will not be drinking my blood, 'owever sexy it may be!" He yelled, then immediately winced at the noise. Scathach rolled her eyes and walked over in three long, fast strides, seizing his right wrist with her hand and lining up her left hand's fingers with his own.

"Relax. My … Breed, if you will, of vampire don't drink blood. That's only reserved for the lowest, least decent of my kind."

Romania's face fell.

"In fact," Scathach continued, France's blue aura beginning to swirl around both of their hands, "What we drink is feelings. Sensations. I can take away your pain from your new senses, make things more comfortable for you. It won't hurt at all, and it's permanent. Your vision, smell, taste, and all that will stay just as sharp, but it won't bother you any more."

France looked extremely confused. "_Attendez… _You mean that you do not want to drink my blood?"

Scathach sighed. "No, you idiot."

A hint of Scathach's gray aura dappled her hand, mixing with France's. Slowly, both auras began to churn, and threads of sky blue wove their way up Scathach's hand and wrist. In another moment, the threads formed an intricate spiral her wrist, and Scathach took her hand away from France's. The blue immediately was absorbed by Scathach's gray, and France blinked.

"'Ey… It doesn't 'urt any more…"

"Isn't that what I said would happen?" Scathach asked. "Aoife! Come over here and help me with the rest of these useless lugs!"

Scathach's twin joined her, and together, they moved through the crowd of confused Nations, stripping them of their pain and leaving them smiling and relieved.

Shakespeare clapped his hands together to get their attention once the vampires had finished. Romania was still watching them with a slightly hurt expression on his face.

"Very good! Now that you are prepared and ready to train, we have decided that we will divide into five groups for now. All of the immortals except for Joan and Tsagaglalal will be working with Norway and Romania, so that the countries can teach us their specialized skills. Japan will be with Tsagaglalal, and he will be trained with more extensive healing skills along with fighting. He will be switching back and forth between combat groups and Tsagaglalal.

"Antarctica, Portugal, England, and Joan will all get their own groups that they will train for combat. Antarctica, you have America and Prussia. Portugal gets China and Italy, while England will work with Germany, Romano, and Scotland. Finally, Joan, you get France and Canada. Any questions? No changing groups."

England scowled. "Why do I get both Romano _and _Scotland? One's bad enough." He complained.

Shakespeare fixed him with a steely glare over his glasses. "No changing groups." He repeated sternly.

England held his gaze for a moment longer, then looked away. "At least I didn't get that wanker America," He muttered.

Shakespeare turned back to the Nations. "Very good. Any other questions?"

The Nations glanced at each other, and then nodded. No complaints.

Telemann grinned. "Good. Now, everyone, divide into your groups so that they can begin your full training."

*XL time skip brought to you by China aru!*

Six hours later, in the early evening, everyone was panting and exhausted. The Nations had fared a little better than the immortals, who were practically passed out on the grass, but even they had trouble catching their breath.

"Remind me again," America gasped, who was lying flat on his back, ", why I agreed to this!?"

"I don't know?" Antarctica replied, who was sprawled out beside him. "Because you want to be a hero? Because we need you to help save the world?"

"Oh, yeah…" America mumbled, his eyelids drooping.

A little ways away, Joan clambered shakily to her feet. She had spent the entire day teaching France and Canada how to use their auras as weapons, by changing the state of things around them and changing things on the molecular level, but after having to demonstrate each trick several times, she was exhausted.

"Good work everyone!" She called out, her voice thin, reedy, and hoarse. Nobody listened to her.

"Zhat was so unawesome…" Prussia muttered, a little ways away from her and in a dazed stupor. Joan tried again.

"GOOD WORK EVERYONE!" She yelled, louder and stronger. Every head turned her way and Joan stumbled a little, light-headed. She regained her balance after an embarrassing moment and called out again, although quieter, "You did great for a first day. Everyone go inside now, have something to eat, and sleep. You all earned it."

With a wave of muttering, stumbling, and with several cases, fainting, the immortals got to their feet and shuffled inside, in the most sorry-looking procession of ancient, all-powerful Immortals that Joan had ever seen.

As Joan stepped forward to follow them, a hand touched her shoulder lightly. Joan spun around as quickly as she could on her tired legs.

"Wha-? Oh, it's just you, Norway. Hi." She sighed, putting a hand on the small of her back to steady herself.

Norway looked nervous, fiddling with his hat. "Hallo, Joan. I was just wondering… Could I maybe go home, for tonight? I don't exactly feel comfortable around so many Nations," He said with an awkward laugh. "I already talked to Antarctica about this, she's fine with it," He added hurriedly. "She's always been more social than I."

Joan smiled. "Go for it. If Antarctica's fine with it, than so am I."

Norway smiled back slightly. "Thank you. I'll be going then."

Waving him goodbye, Joan watched him exit France's lawn, watched his form blur and disappear. _Such a nice guy, _she thought as she headed in for dinner and then sleep.

Or maybe she would just skip the dinner altogether.

(Norway's POV)

A few minutes later, Norway arrived at his mansion, the cold northern air swirling around him as he walked forward and twisted the handle.

Guilt flooded his mind as he stepped forward through the threshold, and a flush warmed his cheeks as he pulled off his boots and coat. _I'll tell Antarctica tomorrow, _he decided. _I've waited for long enough._

"Svalbard! I'm back!" He called.

**END OF DAY 1**

* * *

**Gaah**

**Sorry for the bad chapter peoples, I was having a lot of writer's block with this one and just kind of stumbled my way through it.**

**Sorry! D:**

**Annyywaaayyss…**

**Le gasp! Who is Svalbard! And what is she doing there?**

**You'll find out soon enough… In the book of the century! *movie dramatic voice***

**Pfft I wish -.-'**

**Anyways, you know the drill!**

**Many wuvs for you all!~ **


	12. Chapter 12- Day 2 Part 1

(Joan's POV)

Joan blinked her eyes open to late-morning sunlight streaming in through her window. Sleepy, Joan smiled a little in the warmth and snuggled in deeper to her covers when a thought struck her. _Wait… Is this my bed!? _Joan jolted upright and glanced wildly around the room, only to relax when she recognized the walls and furniture. She sighed with relief. _Good… No sleepwalking last night… _Blinking her eyes, Joan stretched her arms and yawned, releasing a miasma of morning breath, then pulled the covers aside and stumbled to her feet. Glancing down at herself, she saw that the sleep-rumpled clothes she wore were the same as she had worn the day before. _Did I even eat last night…? I don't think so… _

Her thoughts were confirmed when a loud rumble ripped through her stomach, and Joan winced as a pang of hunger quickly followed. _God, I'm starving…I don't think that I ate lunch yesterday either…_ Joan gulped. She hadn't eaten in over 24 hours.

_No wonder I'm hungry…_Quickly stripping and pulling on a new set of clothes and a gray hoodie while simultaneously yanking a brush through her hair, Joan staggered out the door and somehow managed to stumble down the hall and to the kitchen without falling and killing herself. **(A/N That's not to say that she didn't fall… She just didn't kill herself)**

_Something smells delicious… _She thought blearily to herself as she yanked open the door to the kitchen. _Although, I probably would eat one of England's scones right now…Well, actually… _

She had seen England give one to Palamedes earlier.

Their effect was deadly.

_Maybe not…_

"_Bonjour, ma cherie!"_ France exclaimed happily. "You took your time getting up!"

Ignoring the fact that every single Immortal was sitting at the table and watching her, Joan tripped over to France, shoved him aside, and grabbed a croissant that had recently finished baking.

"Mneh. Food." She mumbled as she started to shove it down, America-style, and plunked herself down between Francis and an empty chair. France sat down beside her.

"You must be 'ungry," The Nation noted diplomatically. "'Ave another croissant."

"Haven't eaten for 24 hours," Joan explained to Francis as she started on her second croissant. Around them, the silence of the table had dissolved into mostly friendly chatter, although Joan could tell that the Nations were restraining themselves.

Francis nodded sagely. "I was wondering about that. I didn't see you at the table last night…"

Joan nodded as she continued eating, having finished her second croissant and was half-heartedly beginning to eat a third. Halfway through, she gave up and subtly tucked it into her hoodie's pocket for later. France glanced down at her pocket, his eyes flicking back up to hers with a twinkle, but his mouth stayed closed. Joan smiled at him and got up, roaming around the table to break up any possible brawls.

Italy was smiling in his strange, close-eyed way as he clicked his fingers and conjured a small flame on his index finger, thanks to Portugal's teaching. Germany nodded approvingly while Romano scowled disapprovingly. Laying a finger carefully on Germany's back, so that he wouldn't feel it, Romano narrowed his eyes, and, using his dark amber aura, carefully wrote something into the fabric, then sat back, grinning. Joan walked around and risked a peek at what Romano had done. She immediately stifled a snort. By changing the fabric's colour, Romano had perfectly replicated the curled mustache that Joan had drawn on Germany's face.

Winking at Romano, Joan turned away and continued her walk around the table.

Canada, who had made himself pancakes, had discovered that France had no maple syrup. His eyes narrowed in concentration, Canada dipped an aura-tinged finger into his milk, the scent of maple flooding around him, and when he removed it, the milk had become syrup, which he began to pour over the pancakes, smiling happily.

Joan came up from behind him and gave him a hug around the shoulders. "Good job, Mattie!" She exclaimed, using his human name. Canada smiled back, completely pleased with himself for once.

As Joan continued her patrol, she saw several other examples of the Nations using their newly found abilities. Japan was passing his fingers lightly over Prussia's face, who still had a bruise or two from the earlier day's lesson. As she watched, the bruise faded and disappeared, to be replaced by the albino's normal skin

Shakespeare and England, on the other hand, were talking animatedly together, seemingly at thin air. When she narrowed her eyes and allowed a bit of her silver aura to touch her pupils, she saw what looked like a… Green bunny with wings, floating and talking back.

When she looked around, it seemed that Norway was talking to the same green giant that she had seen in the painting at his mansion.

Sun Yat-Sen, on the other hand, had absent-mindedly began to run his fingers through his hair, and Joan watched as the colour of it was changing from dark brown to black to ginger to auburn and back to brown.

Joan grinned to herself. It looked like Norway and Romania's lessons had paid off for the immortals.

Finishing her little stroll, she settled back into her seat, still keeping an eye on the countries, and began to discuss with the other immortals about what they should do that day.

Joan said, "Well, maybe Norway can take you to a place to see one of the more powerful spirits, then…?"

Francis had explained how Norway was talking about how they were surrounded by thousands of ethearal spirits, most of them invisible. Some could more easily see them, like England, while the most powerful and ancient ones could be seen by all.

Francis nodded. "He was saying something about how there was a recent phoenix sighting, down in Turkey…"

Joan pressed on. "And the other half could stay and practice with Romania."

Francis nodded slowly. "Makes sense… But what will you do?"

Joan shrugged. "I was planning to take France and Canada over to Scotland, maybe to see if we could find ourselves some banshees…"

Francis whistled. "Isn't that a little risky?"

"Yeah, but I'll be there, and I'll ask Japan if he could come with us."

"…Okay, then…"

Joan called across the table. "Hey, Portugal, where will you be going with your group?"

"Antarctica and I are switching!" She yelled back. "I'm going down to Antarctica, to make it harder for fire and earth spells, while Antarctica and her group are going over to Portugal. In the middle of the summer, it'll be hard to get some ice or snow or whatever going."

"Or whatever!?" Antarctica demanded. "I'll have you know that 'ice or snow or whatever' will be extremely useful with Tartarus!"

France rolled his eyes and explained, "She gets touchy around snow and wind and all zat. Must be because 'er country is nearly completely ice and snow."

"England, where are you going?" Portugal asked.

England smirked. "Down to Africa, for some camelopards."

The entire table went silent, except for America.

"What's a 'camelopard'?" He asked.

Scotland shushed him. "Quiet. It's wha ya'd call a giraffe. Very dangerous."

America burst out laughing. "A giraffe!? Are ya kidding me!? Everyone's so scared of a giraffe!?"

Niten shot him a look. "It is no joke, America. Cameropards are very different from the kind you see in zoos."

America still had the giggles. "You're kidding me, right? They're kinda cute, actually!"

England glared at him across the table. "You won't think they're cute when they use their teeth to strip your skin from your flesh. You won't think when they use their hooves to cave in your chest to eat your organs. You won't think they're cute when they take your bloody, flayed skin and drape it over their necks like a victory flag. You think those hippies in the zoo are the real giraffes? You are sadly wrong, you git."

America rocked back in his chair. "GAAH THAT'S SO SCARY YOU'RE GONNA GIVE ME NIGHTMARES YOU JERK HOW COULD YOU BE SO MEAN TO ME!? GAAAAHH!"

Antarctica scowled at England. "You didn't have to scare him that bad…" She leaned over and softly hugged America around his heaving shoulders, speaking softly and kindly to reassure him. Slowly, he calmed down. "Jeez, that was really mean of you, Iggy…" He muttered, wiping a tear from his eye and removing his glasses for a moment to polish them.

England shrugged. "Now he knows."

Japan leaned forward. "Are you sure that this is a good idea, England-san? We do not wish to have any injured Nations today."

"They'll be fine. I'm sure Germany and my big brother can look out for themselves, and I'll be there to protect Romano."

"Hey! _Basterdo!" _Romano yelled. "I can take care of-a myself!"

Joan quickly intervened. "Good! Um, it looks like we have this all figured out! It's, um," She rapidly checked the oven clock. "It's already 11:30, so let's go and try to meet back here at 5:00, okay? If any group isn't back by 5:30, we'll send a search party to go and get you. Sounds good?"

Everyone nodded, even Romano and England. America was mostly calmed down, and everyone else seemed to be more or less their normal selves, so Joan clapped her hand together sharply. "Right! Let's go then!"

* * *

**Group 1: Portugal's combat group.**

**(A/N Since there were so many people together before, I couldn't do 1****st**** person, but now that they're in separate groups, I'll do 1****st**** person for ze groups)**

**(Portugal's POV)**

After Joan had handily broken up our little breakfast, China, Italy, and I left by the back door and headed down the lawn, the various other groups fanning out behind us. Italy was the first to the back gate and held it open for us, exclaiming, "Ve!~ We're-a going to Antarctica! Isn't it going to be cold?"

I nodded, grinning. Italy's permanent happiness never failed to put a smile on my face. "Mmhm, but don't worry about that. Since I'm a long-time Fire master, I'm never really cold, but for you, since you're new, I would say to use just a bit of your aura to heat yourselves up. We don't want any parts freezing off, do we?"

For fun, I threw in a wink at China, who immediately blushed awkwardly. I sighed internally and looked away. Although I loved him, I was sure of it, he could have the mentality of a fourteen-year-old sometimes.

I brushed my dark hair back out of my eyes and focused, remembering everything that Antarctica had told me about her homeland. _Cold, snow, glaciers, and penguins. Got it._

Making sure that Italy hadn't wandered off, I turned directly south and began walking, China and Italy close behind me.

The walk was longer than usual, taking nearly ten minutes. We spent at least half that time walking over water, and as we went farther south, glaciers and ice floes.

Finally, we arrived on a bright summer day, our breath steaming out around us in massive clouds. Italy jumped up and down and complained, "It's-a so cold! Why didn't you-a tell us that we would be frozen solid!?"

"I did…" I muttered. Raising my voice, I said, "Remember what I told you. Heat yourselves up, because I'm not going to do it for you."

Italy frowned and closed his already closed eyes, and his amber aura surrounded him like a glowing blanket. Raising his head and _actually opening his eyes_, he proclaimed, "Veh!~ It's not-a cold any more!"

China, on the other hand… Although he was thoroughly coated with his forest green aura, he looked uncomfortable, shivering, with his cheeks tinged pink. "I'm still cold, aru…" He muttered. Without a second thought, I took off my coat, charging it with a bit of heat, and draped it over his shoulders, pecking him on the cheeks.

"Better?" I asked, smiling and standing in the middle of an Antarctic blizzard wearing only jean shorts and a t-shirt.

He smiled at me. "Much better, aru!"

"Right." I turned away from my fellow Nations and glared at the snowstorm around us, my sharp eyes picking out every individual flake. "Let's see if we can do something about this…"

I raised my left hand. A long time ago, I had tattooed a symbol that was a mix of three ancient marks for 'sun' on the back of my hand, and it served as my trigger. It looked like two straight parallel lines, crossed by a single, longer one with a circle at each end and a dot in the center of each circle.

Pressing three of my fingers to my left hand, I called my red-gold aura and flung out a halo of heat that completely surrounded us on all directions. It didn't touch the snow below our feet, but it arched above us to form a dome and wherever the flakes in the blizzard touched it, they immediately melted, then evaporated. Within moments, our little safe zone was completely snowstorm free.

I turned back to China and Italy. They seemed impressed, and I nodded.

"Well. Let's learn some Earth magic, then."

* * *

I walked around them in a slow circle.

"There are those that say that Air, or Fire, or even Water magic is the strongest of all. There are also those that believe that the moon is a big ball of cheese. I don't believe either theory, because all elemental magics are equal anyways, and it was long ago confirmed that the Moon is just rock and dust." I paused. "But for the purpose of this lesson, let's just say that Earth is the strongest."

I resumed my little stroll. "Out of all the elements, Earth is the one that we rely the most upon. It gives us land to grow food on, yes, but it also gives us land to stand on. If it wasn't for Earth, we would just be floating in space.

"The other elements rely on Earth, as well. Our air was created out of gases that were attracted by the earth's gravity, and our water is simply a solidified form of those gases. Fire needs plant life to feed on, so that it can grow and prosper. Earth magic can create life in the most unlikely of places, searching for the seeds of life and rejuvenating them. Even in Antarctica."

I knelt down and placed a hand on the snow, sending a thread of my aura down through the snow and into the earth.

"Millions of years ago," I continued, "Antarctica was part of a large, central landmass called Pangaea. Even this earth was covered with trees, and they left their seeds behind as Antarctica slowly migrated south."

_Aha! There's one! _With my aura, I had found a tiny, prehistoric seed imbedded in the earth. I concentrated my aura and slowly brought the petrified wood to life. Seconds later, the seed came to life and a massive Prehistoric tree sprouted from the snow, adding a foreign, warm aroma to the cold air.

China gaped while Italy smiled happily and clapped his hands together in excitement.

"I don't expect you to be able to do that right away," I added hurriedly. 'This is for practice."

"Oh…" China looked relieved.

"So, what do-a you want us to do?" Italy asked, tipping his head in confusion. I pointed at the plant.

"This tree is at its springtime stage, before it flowers in the summer. What I want you to do is make it flower. Take turns, though. I want you each able to create flowers in the tree, separately, before we leave today."

Italy stepped forward eagerly. "Okay! What do I have-a to do, again?"

"Just imagine how you think it would look in summer. The flowers can look however you like, be whatever colour, but the image has to be strong. You have to close your eyes and _believe _that the tree is covered in flowers, and when you're sure of it, just call your aura, step forward, and touch the tree. It gets much easier after you do it yourself for the first time, though."

"Okay!" Italy closed his eyes and frowned, hints of his aura swirling around him. After about four seconds, he rushed forward and tapped the tree lightly with his index finger. A single flower appeared, looking like a pink lily. Italy cracked open an eye, and his face fell. "Only one? This is-a hard!"

"It was a good try," I reassured him. "You just went a little too quickly. The image has to be stronger. China, you try."

With his attempt, China went much slower. We waited there for nearly three minutes before China reached out and pressed his hand, palm flat, to the tree's bark. About half of the tree burst into bloom, and when China opened his eyes, he grinned in surprise.

"Very good!" I exclaimed. "Just, don't think it though so much. It's still a work of instinct as much as it is of thought."

China nodded and stepped back. Like that, we practiced for nearly a hour until Italy was able to make the entire tree bloom. "Ve!~ Look at that, Portugal!" He cried happily. I hugged him and said, "I see it, alright. Great job! China, now you try. You can do it this time, I'm sure of it." I added.

China nodded, looking a little frusturated. His brow furrowed and my stomach sank as I saw that he was still trying too hard.

"Here," I said softly. "Let me help." I took a step forward and touched his forehead lightly, focusing, and showing him the way I held the image almost loosely in my mind before I created something.

"Can you do that?" I asked softly. China hesitated, then nodded, his eyes already closing. Ten seconds later, he touched the tree lightly and the entire thing burst into vibrant flowers. I clapped in joy. "Great job, China! That was excellent!"

He allowed himself a cautious smile.

"Hey, Portugal, what's that?" Italy asked randomly. I glanced up, then immediately stumbled back in fright. An Akhlut was pacing outside our dome of heat.

"Italy! China! Get behind me right now!" I hissed. They scrambled back, happy to obey. "Wh-what is that?" Italy stammered nervously.

The thing was huge, with four legs, pale blue, leathery skin, and a blunt head with a mouth full of hooked teeth. A ridge of bone ran from the top of its skull down its neck, ending at its shoulder blades, and there were only small indents where its eyes should have been.

"Southern Akhlut. Ice demon. They live in cold places and hate the heat. It was probably attracted by the warmth of the dome." I whispered back. With a shaking hand, I tapped my trigger tattoo and the heat dome disappeared. The Akhlut paused, its massive head swinging around. _It's blind, _I told myself. _It can't see us, remember? It can only detect heat waves._

And then the Akhlut's head swung directly towards me. With a jolt, I realized that I was radiating heat like a furnace, wearing virtually nothing to stop if from escaping. Italy and China were both well clothed, so they would be fine, but it was after me.

"Run! Go!" I hissed at China and Italy. "It can only feel my heat! Get out of here! I'll join you back at the mansion, okay?"

They both took a step back, but looked unwilling to go.

"GO!" I yelled. They turned to run, and I faced the Akhlut.

"Let's dance." I muttered, then launched myself at the demon. It roared and came crashing forward.

(China's POV)

We were running, on Portugal's orders, when we heard the roar, and then the scream. I skidded to a halt, Italy thumping into me.

"What are you-a waiting for!? Let's-a go!" He pleaded, and I ignored him, turning around sharply to face Portugal and the Akhlut, whatever it was.

Portugal was spinning around like a dust devil, sparks flying from her skin, casting sheets of flame over the snow and screaming to distract the Akhlut. Whenever it turned away, she sent a gout of fire at its head, only to dance away when it turned and swiped with its massive, clawed feet.

"Good job, aru…" I whispered. And then the unthinkable happened. While dodging one of the Akhlut's claws, Portugal had failed to notice the other paw that had come out of nowhere, ramming into her side like a truck and flinging her at least 20 meters. She didn't get up.

"No!" Italy whispered behind me, but I was already running straight for the Akhlut. After a moment, Italy followed me.

Luckily, the Akhlut was distracted by Portugal, otherwise we never would have survived the first few seconds. While its back was turned, I leaped high into the air, my aura flickering brightly around my fists and feet.

I slammed heel-first into the Akhlut's back, and it staggered. Acting completely on instinct, I dodged the claw that came up and around its back, slung myself around its neck, and slammed my fists into its forelegs. It crumbled, and I scrambled out from under its bulk, then ran around and brought both of my fists down over its head in a two-handed blow. It fell stiff, a forked tongue lolling out of its toothy mouth.

The beast's flesh where I had touched it was blackened and sizzling, sending up gouts of steam. With a shudder, I saw that my first two-foot blow had carved trenches four inches deep into its back.

"Check on Portugal, aru!" I shouted, panting. Italy nodded and hurried away. I was soon joined by Italy supporting a limping Portugal. She smiled wanly when she saw me, and I jumped to my feet.

"Aiyah… What's wrong, aru?" I asked, fussing over her.

"Nothing much… Broken rib or two… I'll be fine.."

"That is not 'nothing much'!" I exclaimed. "I've lived for long enough to know that a broken rib is not 'nothing much', aru!"

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, supporting her. "We're going back, aru."

* * *

**Group 2: Norway's lesson group**

(Saint-Germain's POV)

After Portugal, Antarctica, England, and Joan's groups had left, the rest of the immortals and I stood in a loose semi-circle around Norway and Romania.

Romania was the first to speak. "So, what we have decided is that half of you will stay here, with me, to train and learn my skills. The other half will go to see the phoenix. Any volunteers for either group?"

Shakespeare and Palamedes stepped forward first. "If you don't mind, Norway," Shakespeare said, dipping his head slightly, "I'm not quite the adventuring type, and Palamedes would like to stay with me. We're going with Romania."

Norway dipped his head back. "Not at all."

Scathach and I both went over to Norway, while the rest kind of loitered around, muttering to each other and trying to decide what they would learn.

"There's no pressure," Romania reminded them. "If you pick one group today, you can always switch to the other one tomorrow."

That made up the minds of Niten and Aoife, who joined Scathach and I, while Virginia, Billy, and Sun Yat-Sen all went over to Romania.

Finally, after some shifting around, choosing, switching, and arguing, all the immortals picked a group, and there was a fairly equal amount in each one.

Norway, along with Aoife, Scathach, Niten, Sophie, Telemann, Machiavelli, and I walked together in a tight cluster to the back gate. After we exited, Norway turned t us, fixing all of us at once with his dark gaze and began to speak.

"As a warning, I would recommend to never anger the phoenix. There is only one in the earth at any given time, and it is one of the most powerful out of all the spirits. If you somehow manage to annoy it, we will need a wheelbarrow to cart home your ashes. Any questions?"

I paled and shook my head, along with the rest of the immortals. _I sincerely hope that he's kidding…_

Norway nodded. "Good. Sorry for scaring you, but it's the truth. One always must be cautious around spirits, and better safe than sorry, no?"

"Right…" Machiavelli grumbled, looking peeved. I gave him a sympathetic glance and faced Norway.

"So, when are we going, exactly? I mean, standing here and scaring us is very good and all that, but we need to be back by 5:00."

He gave me a slightly amused look. "Right now."

Without warning, he turned away and began to walk. "Stay close behind," He called over his shoulder.

Muttering to themselves, the immortals followed. I grinned internally and trailed after them. _This is either going to be very interesting or is going to kill us all._

I paused and added to that thought.

_Probably both._

* * *

Five minutes later, we arrived in what looked like southern Turkey. Scathach and Aoife immediately collapsed to the dry ground, their skin an odd shade of green and retching.

"That was worse than ley lines," Scathach gasped. "I'm never going to Nation-travel again!"

"I'm with you there," Aoife wheezed.

"That was… Very interesting…" Niten added cautiously.

I was grinning like an idiot and I didn't care. "That was awesome!" I exclaimed. "Can we do it again!?"

Scathach shot me a deadly glare. "_Never again," _She hissed through clenched teeth, and I shrugged casually in reply.

Machiavelli laid a hand on my shoulder, looking a little green as well. "Best not to piss off the twin Celtic goddesses of martial arts…" He warned me.

Sophie shook her head. "Definitely not a good idea." She turned to Norway. "So, where's the phoenix? I've never seen one before, and I'm curious."

Norway had his eyes closed and was obviously focusing. "Shush," He muttered. "I'm calling someone."

A miniature, square portal flickered to life in front of him, in thin air, and what looked like a glowing green giant wrapped in leaves and vines stepped through.

_What the hell is that!?_

Norway turned to face us, the giant following his movements.

"Everybody, this is N'uskray, a spirit friend of mine. About a couple of centuries ago, I saved his life from a pack of succubi, and in return, he has stayed with me and become my friend. From time to time, we call upon each other for advice and to fight, and I asked him to come here to help us find the phoenix"

N'uskray bowed elegantly, one arm crooked across his back and the other resting on his stomach. We bowed back, albeit shakily.

"A pleasure to meet you, N'uskray," Sophie murmured.

The giant nodded, a slight smile flickering across his ethereal, translucent face.

Scathach straightened and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "That's very nice and all, but I just traveled across a continent and a sea to get here, and I'm not particularly happy about it. Where's the phoenix?"

Norway shot her a glare, but the giant seemed amused by her question. After a moment's hesitation, N'uskray pointed directly south, where there were several palm trees rising up in the distance.

"The phoenix is in that stand of trees there?" Aoife asked, looking as uncomfortable as her sister, and N'uskray nodded.

"Well, that was easy…" Machiavelli muttered, and Niten elbowed him.

"Be more grateful! You're talking to an ancient, immortal spirit!" He hissed, and Machiavelli shrugged.

"So? I'm immortal, and fairly ancient as well."

"_Thank you for your help," _Norway hissed, glaring at them while he spoke to the spirit. _"We are incredibly thankful for your wisdom and guidance."_

"Oh. Right. Thanks." Machiavelli muttered, although he didn't look overly happy about it. I just grinned, and fell to the back of the group as N'uskray faded out and our little group began a trek south across the desert.

About twenty minutes later, when everyone except for me were using their auras to keep cool, we were interrupted by a loud, heavily accented voice.

"Lukas Bondevik! What are you doing down in Turkey?" A deeply tanned man wearing a white mask and a red fez ran up to us from the side. "And who are your friends, bro?"

Norway shook his hand, smiling, and then he turned to us. "Everyone, this is Sadiq Annan, also known as the personification of Turkey."

Turkey stiffened. "Hey, Luke," He whispered loudly. "Are ya sure it's fine to say who I am?"

Norway nodded. "They already know who I am. It's fine."

Niten stepped forward first to greet him. "Herro. My name is Miyamoto Musashi, the swordsman. But you can just call me Niten."

"I'm Sophie Newman, the oldest here."

"Le Comte de Saint-Germain, at your service."

"Niccolo Machiavelli."

"I'm Aoife, and this is Scathach, twin Celtic goddesses, if you will."

"Georg Telemann. German composer."

Turkey gave us all an odd look. "You have some weird friends, bro…"

Norway smiled wider. "I know. And they're all who they say. See you later!"

And without another word, he turned away and began walking, leaving behind an extraordinarily confused Nation. I shot him an apologetic glance and followed.

Twenty more minutes later, after a silent hike across desert dunes, we reached the edge of the oasis and Norway turned to face us.

"As you may already know, there are four physical elements that make up the world: Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. But if you think that it's all, you are wrong. In reality, there are ten."

I sucked my breath in surprise. This was new.

"Along with the four physical elements, there are three metaphysical ones; Life, Death, and Spirit. And along with those, there are the final three dimensional elements; Time, Space, and Energy.

"All Spirits are manifestations of the seven lesser elements. The more elements they manifest, the stronger they are. If there were any Dimensional spirits, they would have the ability to control the universe.

"The phoenix is a manifestation of four: Fire, Air, Life, and Spirit. This makes it extremely rare, as most are only one or two. It also makes it extremely wise not to annoy it, as you seemingly forgot with N'uskray. Do not forget it again." He finished, with a glare aimed directly at Machiavelli.

"Now, let us go and meet a phoenix."

* * *

Almost the second we walked under the trees, a high-pitched, fierce shriek rang out and the most beautiful bird that I had even seen swooped down from the sky.

It was large, the size of a bald eagle, with gold-and-red feathers and two long tailfeathers drooping down below the branch that it was perching on. It cocked its head at us, revealing a dark, intelligent eye resting below a magnificent crest on the top of its skull. Its beak was stout but elegant, ending in a deadly-looking hook. It regarded us for a moment longer, tilted its head to the left, opened its beak, and spoke.

"Well, this is unexpected. I've never seen a country personification before, or an immortal human. Who are you…? Wait."

It looked at Norway. "You're Norway, a land of ice and snow… And you're both Next Generation, from after the fall of Danu Talis… And what's this? A pure silver aura… You are incredibly powerful and incredibly ancient, Sophie Newman. Nearly as old as me…

"And who are you? Le Comte de Saint-Germain, so loyal to your wife… And yet you fear that she may not be equally loyal… Oh, and then we have Machiavelli, of course, the man who has finally found the right side, with Niten, the wise swordsman… And Telemann, of course, I couldn't forget you, the man who helped change the world with his music…"

The phoenix shifted on her branch. (Judging from the voice, I had decided that it was a she.)

"Now that I have been introduced, I suppose that I should tell you my name, no? Well, the name of this incarnation is Nurania. A pleasure to meet you all."

I was the first to speak. "Um…. Wha?"

Scathach stepped in. "What my friend means is, how did you know our names and what we were, just like that?"

Nurania laughed. "Well, you already know that I'm a Spirit manifestation-Oh, you're starting to figure it out. Like calls to like, and I can see your spirits. Ergo, I know everything about you."

"Um…Wha?" Scathach asked, confused.

Aoife stepped in for her instead. "And what did you mean by 'this incarnation'?"

"Well, Norway has said that there's only one phoenix in the world at any time. You assumed that they're different, but every hundred years or so, I renew my body in the flames and give myself a new name. My mind stays the same. Simple."

"…Right. Simple."

Nurania looked directly at me. "Oh, you're a Fire master! Brilliant, brilliant, I simply _love _Fire… You stole the secrets from Prometheus himself and had them translated by Marethyu. You have been taught by very powerful masters, Francis. And yes, I know what you want to do." She added, answering the question that was forming in my head. The phoenix turned her head to Telemann. "Of course it's possible! Tartarus will be difficult, definitely, but it will be even harder if he manages to Awaken Gaia. Then you'll be in a fight for the entire planet's life!" She laughed cheerily, as if it didn't make a difference to her at all, then spun to Norway.

"Oh, and when you get back home, ask Tony about the Pictos. They should be able to give some valuable aid. So long! It was lovely meeting you all!~"

And without another word, Nurania turned and flew away. _What!?_

I gaped in shock. "Well… That was strange…"

"Tell me about it," Telemann grumbled.

Niten turned to Norway. "Sir Norway, what did the phoenix mean about 'Tony' and the 'Pictos'?"

"Tony is America's alien friend," Norway replied bluntly, " and the Pictos are an alien race that invaded a few years ago. You wouldn't remember, because you had your memories and personalities stolen for a short while. Now, let's go back. We've seen enough."

And without a word, he spun around and we all headed back to France's house, all incredibly confused. I jogged a little and caught up with Norway.

"You said that all spirits are manifestations of elements." I stated. "Are there any that are manifestations of all of them? And would we be able to ask them for help?"

Norway responded quickly. "There is one. Mythology has called it by many names; God for the Christians, Kronos for the Greek, and Ra for the Egyptians. They have given him many forms, many names, but his true form is that of a dragon, with scales as black as night and eyes as white as snow. His name… Is Ragnarok."

"The Doom of the Gods," I whispered. "Will he help us?"

Norway glanced back at me. "The dragon does not take orders. The last one to try to control him was Ouranos, a powerful and mighty spirit who believed that he was a manifestation of Energy."

"What happened to him?" I asked, with morbid curiosity. Norway turned away.

"Ragnarok tore him to pieces and cast his remains into the Netherworld, the gap between Shadowrealms. They were lost there for all eternity in the Nothing. And Ragnarok followed him, of his own will, so that nobody would ever try to control him again."

"…So, he's not helping us?"

* * *

**Group 3: England's combat group**

(England's POV)

"I still don' see why we're doin' this, laddie…" Scotland grumbled.

"_Bastardo," _Romano muttered.

"You dummkopfs, just shut up and try to pay attention," Germany growled.

I just sighed. _Gits._

We had been waiting here, in southern Nigeria, for a herd of camelopards to come along. Scotland had been complaining nonstop, Romano had been cursing at all of us, and Germany had been grumbling about the other two.

For three hours straight.

Under the African summer sun.

With little to no shade, only a few dapples of shadow provided by the tree that I was perching in.

Finally, after another half hour, I twisted around from my vantage point high in a tree and hissed, "Are you _wankers _quite finished!? We've been here for three straight hours, and what was already an unlikable task was made even worse by your constant bickering! It's unnecessary and honestly, plain rude. So, please, for the sake of my sanity, _shut it._"

Romano glared right back at me. "Shouldn't you-a be watching for big-a scary giraffes, or something?"

"I _would_, if I could actually _focus,_" I seethed. "None of you actually knows what one looks like, so you're staying _right down there_ until one comes along."

"'Ey, Iggy." Scotland said from somewhere to my left.

"_What!?" _I demanded.

"Wha' does a camelopard look like, again?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh… Like a normal giraffe, I suppose, but it has long, sharp teeth, spikes coming out of its back, pointed hooves, and horns. Why?"

Scotland pointed, the slightest tremor in his voice. "You mean… They look like that?"

I glanced casually up at the pair of camelopards that was roaming across the savannah. "Yes, quite…. HOLY BOLLOCKS THOSE ARE CAMELOPARDS!" I yelled, jerking back and nearly falling out of the tree.

Germany glared up at me. "Yes, zhey are… Vould you like to run over unt tell zhem vhere ve are, as vell?"

I glared back, then switched my gaze back to Scotland. "Why didn't you tell me, you git!?"

"Hey! I did, didn' I!?" He growled. I dropped down from the tree, walked over, and poked him in the chest.

"Well, you could have been a little more clear about it, you idiot!" I hissed.

Romano tapped me on the shoulder. "Umm-"

"_Not now!" _We both yelled at him. Scotland snapped, "Ya shouldn' be so rude ta me! Don' ya remember how I helped raise ya? I'm yer big brother, and don' ya ferget it!"

Romano tapped me on the shoulder, more forcefully. "England, you should really-"

"What is it!?" I demanded. "I'm in the middle of something, in case you haven't noticed!"

"The camelopards are right there, you _idiota!_" He yelled, reverting back to Italian.

And at that moment, a mouth full of teeth sunk into my shoulder and jerked me off the ground, tearing into my flesh and ripping bloody furrows into muscle, glancing off my shoulderblade.

I screamed, and then everything turned black.

(Omniscient POV)

England was terrifying. While the rest of the Nations were frozen with shock, a black mist had blossomed off his skin and was threading down the camelopard's skin.

"_Let… Me… GO!" _He shouted, his voice guttural and more beast than human. The lights in his aura snapped to blazing life, burning brighter than the sun, and when he opened his eyes, one of his irises was gold, the other silver. The whites had turned completely black.

The lights were burning brighter and brighter, and the Nations stayed back. None of them wanted to be near England when he unleashed his power.

The lights leeched from his aura, twining down the camelopard's face and down its neck. England, with an ugly snarl on his face, closed his odd eyes to focus…

And then the other camelopard struck, while he was distracted.

It lashed out with a pointed hoof, catching him directly across the chest and flinging him away. A loud crack sounded when he slammed into the dry ground, and his aura fizzled out and disappeared.

Scotland roared. "Don' ya dare touch my little brother, ya fucking bastards!" His olive-green aura hovered around his skin, pulsing wildly and throwing off waves of power.

His arm snapped out at the second camelopard and a shockwave rippled through the air.

Its leg bones snapped in half with a sickening crack, and the tall beast crumpled to the ground.

"Take care of the other one!" He snapped at Germany and Romano, and they nodded as one and raced away to the other camelopard, which had paused in surprise.

Scotland turned back to the wounded giraffe. "I may not be a true Nation," He growled, advancing, his accent becoming thicker with each step, "but I have been a unified land since 843, and I know how to pack one _hell _of a punch, laddie."

The camelopard nickered in terror at the sight of him, his aura blazing, casting wild tendrils of green light around him. The aromatic smell of woodsmoke filled the air. It tried to clamber to its feet, but screamed in agony and fell back down as its broken leg

bones grated and slipped against each other. Scotland planted a foot on its head, pinning it to the ground, and leaned close.

"I'm gonna make ya sorry you ever touched my little brother," He spat, and in one fluid movement, grabbed its head and twisted. A loud crack rang out as its spine snapped, and the camelopard slumped to the ground, dead.

The Nation clambered to his feet, dusting off his hands, and rushed over to England. Romano and Germany had finished dispatching their beat and crouched by him as he knelt beside his little brother.

"Hey, buddy," He murmured, gently pulling back England's shirt where he hand been kicked. "You alright?"

Scotland winced and sucked his teeth when he saw the damage that the camelopard had done. There was a large indent in the middle of the unconscious' Nation's chest, where his ribs had caved in, surrounded by a huge, dark bruise with blood leaking from his pores.

"Any of ya know anything 'bout healing?" He whispered. "We can't get 'im back like this."

Germany nodded solemnly. "Japan told me a bit about vhat he learned. Just apply a bit of your aura unt let it vork, he said."

"Right…" Scotland muttered. A faint dusting of green appeared on the tips of his fingers, and he gently trailed his hand across England's skin, leaving coloured trails.

"It's-a looking better…" Romano murmured.

England's chest was starting to fill in, the bruises fading, the blood being sucked back into his veins. Sweat broke out on Scotland's brow.

"It's not enough!" He shouted, suddenly angry, and pressed both of his hands flat on England's cold shoulders.

His aura wavered to life, but it was weak and pale. Scotland was exhausted from his shockwave that had broken the camelopard's legs.

"It's not enough…" He repeated, whispering.

And then the gold lights, formerly pale and weak, burst to blinding life and shone with renewed power. The gold flowed down his arms, through his hands and onto England, where it thoroughly coated the wounds.

In a second, they were all gone.

England snapped open his eyes, the colour flicking from black to gold to their normal green, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. His green eyes flicked over to Scotland, who had a shaky but relieved smile on his face.

"Weren't we fighting?" The healed Nation asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Without warning, Scotland lurched forward and pulled his little brother into a tight hug.

"Don't you ever, _ever _get hurt like that again. Do ya hear me?" He whispered roughly.

England swallowed and hugged his brother back. "I hear you."

* * *

**Ermahgerd long chapter peoples! Sorry it took so long to update, it's hard to write these mini sections…**

**And this chapter made me love Scotland so much more…. :3**

**Adorable!**

**This is going to take a LOT longer than I realized…**

**Anyways, you know the drill!**

**Wuvs to you all~**


	13. Chapter 13- Day 2 Part 2

**Gaaah sorry for the wait, I was feeling really lazy this week and I didn't work on the chapter for a LOT longer than I would like. Sorry!**

**So, without any further ado, here it is!**

**Joan's combat group**

(Joan's POV)

"_Canada! Vous devez relâcher votre français interne! Trouvez une fille que vous aimez et fais l'amour comme un vrai Français! »_

_« Pourquoi? Je ne suis pas Français, de toute façon! J'habite en _Canada, _pas _France. _Seulement deux provinces sont francophone! Toute la reste sont anglophone! »_

_« Mais… Mais… C'est encore une partie de vous! »_

**(A/N Translation: Canada! You must release your inner French! Find a girl that you like and make love like a real Frenchman!**

**Why? I'm not French, anyways! I live in **_**Canada, **_**not **_**France.**_** Only two provinces speak French! All the rest speak English!**

**But… But… It's still a part of you!)**

A vein in my temple pulsed, while Japan walked silently beside me and said nothing, The two had been arguing about purely idiotic things ever since we had left France's mansion, and I was ready to scream with frustration.

"_Non, ce n'est pas! Je l'ai laissée partir, il y a longtemps!"_

_« Impossible! Pourquoi voulez-vous l'oublier? »_

_« Parce que c'est pervertie et honteuse! »_

**(A/N Translation: No, it isn't! I left it behind a long time ago!**

**Impossible! Why do you want to forget it?**

**Because it's perverted and disgraceful!)**

The vein was throbbing with increasing rapidity, and a corner of my mouth lifted up in an angry snarl. If one of them said one more word….

"_Est-ce que vous dites que-"_

_« Souvenez-vous que je suis francophone aussi!? » _I snapped, finally losing my temper.

**(A/N Translation: Are you saying that-**

**Do you remember that I speak French too!?)**

Continuing in English, I growled, "You've been arguing about these stupid things ever since you left the mansion! It's been ticking me off, and if one of says another word, I'll chop off one of your hands with my broadsword!"

The sunlit forests of Scotland were silent, except for the crunch of our feet, crushing the dry leaves to fragments.

Japan gave me a nervous look out of the corner of his eye and edged slowly away, while I stopped walking and spun around to face the two guilty-looking Nations.

"Well!?" I demanded, fixing first France, then Canada, with an intense, angry stare.

Canada was the first to apologize. "Um… Sorry, Joan. I… Well, we didn't realize that you were annoyed. I'm sorry to make you unhappy." He said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

I nodded, smiling a tiny bit, and gave him a little hug around the shoulders. "It's okay," I whispered. "I should have said something before."

He smiled back, blushing a little, and hugged me back.

"If I apologize, do I get a 'ug too?" France asked innocently. I gave him a glare, but it immediately faded into a small grin.

"Sure. Why not?"

"Well then… I must say that I am the sorriest person in the world. I completely apologize for making you upset in any way, and I will give my life if that's what you require for me to redeem myself. Is that good enough?" He asked, with a little half smile on his face, his vivid blue eyes glinting mischievously.

The oddest thing happened then. I swear, my heart just… Stopped. Not the skipped-a-beat thing that the bad romance novels speak of, but it literally stopped beating for a moment. Did that mean…?

_No! _I told myself firmly. _France is my- Wait, no. _Francis _is my husband. Not France. Remember?_

France gave me an odd look while I was caught in my thoughts. "Don't I get my 'ug?" He asked.

I shook my head, jolting myself out of my thoughts. "Of course," I murmured, walking over and giving him a gentle hug, being careful to keep his arms pinned by his sides. After knowing him for a few years, I had quickly learned to never let France's hands roam where they wanted.

"Right then." I coughed, and turned away. "Let's get going, see if we could find ourselves some banshees."

When we got moving again, Japan dropped back to beside me with a little smile on his face. I immediately tensed, dreading what he would say.

"You eased the tensions very effectivery. I'm impressed. How did you do it so easiry?"

I relaxed and smiled. "Well, you know, after a couple of years commanding an army, you have to learn how to break up fights and even minor arguments. There can be no dissention in your troops, otherwise you will lose. I've seen it happen before." I grimaced, a few memories falling into place. "It wasn't pretty."

Japan nodded. "Interesting. I've commanded a few armies myserf, of course, but it was usuarry the rower-ranking officers that broke up the smarrer fights. If there was a brawr, I would get invorved, but no other time."

A jolt of surprise ran through, and in response, my aura involuntarily flared slightly. The scent of lavender tinged the dry summer air. "What? You've commanded armies?"

Japan nodded, navy blue sparks crawling across his skin, reacting to my silver aura. "Arr of us have. We don't just sit back and ret the readers do everything, you know," He added, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes. "We get personarry invorved in every war that has ever been fought, often fighting duers arone with the opposing country."

I looked ahead again, making sure that I didn't trip over anything. "Interesting. I never knew that…"

He nodded. "Not many do. Onry our bosses and our officers. We use human names for interacting with the rest of the worrd. Mine's Kiku Honda," He added.

I nodded in reply, filing away the information for later.

"Ohmifreakinggod!" Canada yelled in front of us, and I snapped to attention.

"Mon Dieu…" France murmured.

"What? What is it!?" I demanded, staring around wildly. The Nations were both staring at something, but they had rushed forward a little and were pressed together, shoulder to shoulder. I couldn't see anything past them, and I strode forward, Japan a bit in front of me. He squeezed between Canada and France and immediately halted.

"Watashi no kami…" Japan whispered.

I growled and shouldered France aside, trying to see what they were looking at.

And then I saw it.

A boy, no more than fifteen, was slumped against a tree, his eyes closed and his face pale. There was a gaping, rough hole ripped into his side, slowly leaking blood onto the forest floor. His hair was plastered to his skull with another wound, and his eyelids fluttered and twitched.

I rushed over to his side, the countries close behind me. "My god…" I whispered, looking at the damage done. Some kind of blade, tooth, or claw had ripped a long slash through his shirt, starting just below his ribcage and ending beside the bottom of his spine. The fabric around it was stained bright red with his own blood, and a trickle was slowly crawling down his forehead and over his eyebrow.

With a shaking hand, I pulled out a small dagger that was hidden inside my boot and carefully cut away the fabric surrounding the cut.

It was festering and greenish, surrounded by a nasty-looking crust that was slowly dripping a clear liquid.

I shook my head. "It shouldn't be that infected…. If he was left here long enough to infect, he wouldn't be alive… Japan!" I called suddenly. "Did Tsagaglalal teach you much about infections?"

The Nation knelt beside me, looking pale and shaken. "A bit, arthough she focused more on quickry mending broken bones and removing poison."

I nodded. "Good. Because I'm fairly sure that it's poisoned."

Japan glanced up. "Rearry?"

"Yes," I replied impatiently. "Work quickly, because I don't think that he has very long left to live."

The Nation nodded, and without another word, laid one of his hands on the boy's skin. He mumbled something, his eyes rolling under their lids, but that was all.

France, Canada, and I stepped back, keeping a careful eye on our surroundings, to make sure that nothing snuck up on us. Many things, most worse than bears or wolves, were attracted by the scent of blood.

France glanced over his shoulder, back at Japan. "Joan… Look…" He whispered. I quickly turned around, my eyes widening in surprise.

Japan had his eyes closed, concentrating fiercely, his navy aura glowing with a radiant incandescence. The gold and silver lights, which I had begun to ignore and accept as just part of the coloration, were flaring and flickering wildly in the blue field. The delicate, soft odor of cherry blossoms washed over us, and as we watched, the crust lifted off the boy's skin, the green tinge draining away and the pale liquid evaporating.

Japan opened his eyes, the dark colour tinted with blue, and gasped. "I don't have much reft… The poison had reached his veins and had coursed through nearry his entire body before I managed to get rid of it… I can't close the wound myserf…"

The three of us glanced at each other, and, without another word, Canada, France, and I laid our hands on Japan's shoulders.

Immediately, our own auras blazed to life, France's rose and Canada's maple mingling in the air with my lavender and Japan's cherry blossom scents, the woods around us tingling with the smell of eldritch magic.

The Nation lifted his head, traces of silver, green, and cerulean tracing down his skin like tattoos, and planted both of his hands on the cut.

There was a flash of light and a sound like wind whistling through the trees, and then the gash was completely sealed. We slumped to the ground, not caring about whether the boy saw us or not, and huddled together in a trembling knot.

I patted Japan on the back. "That was awesome," I murmured. "I'm really impressed. You saved his life."

Japan smiled a little, hints of a blush touching his cheeks. "I couldn't have done it without you three herping me." **(A/N Without you three 'herping' me? Pfft :3)**

France grinned, his eyes fading back to their usual blue. "Do not be ridiculous! It was all you, mon ami."

Japan smiled a bit wider, and then, surprising us all, lurched forward and hugged us around the shoulders, one by one.

"Hm. The first time that ever I've hugged anyone. Not as bad as I thought it would be." He murmured, sitting back while the three of us gaped at him in shock.

I was about to demand about what exactly he meant by 'never hugging anyone' when a lilting, slightly quavering voice spoke out behind us.

"Who the hell are you!?"

We slowly turned around to find the boy that we had healed earlier, sitting up and staring at us with fear- and maybe a touch of awe- in his blue eyes.

I gradually lifted up my hands to show that I had no weapons, the Nations mimicking my movements. I spoke softly. "Well, my name is Joan, this-" I pointed to Japan, who was trying his best to look friendly- "Is Kiku."

"My name is Matthew," Canada butted in, saving me from the embarrassment of not knowing his human name. "And this is Francis."

I internally winced. _Why does his human name have to be the same as Francis'!?_

"And mine's Alex," He mumbled, pushing himself upright. "What are you doing here?" He asked, sounding a little less fearful but a bit more suspicious.

Japan coughed. "Werr, we were just taking a wark through the woods here, and we saw you, um, sreeping, and we were a bit, um, worried, so-"

"Bullshit," Alex snapped. "I had my side ripped open by that… _Thing _and I know it. What I want to know is why it's completely gone, without a scar. _What _are you!?" He demanded, starting to look angry.

"I-it was just a hallucination?" Canada suggested nervously, his stutter reappearing under the stress.

Alex just glared at him. "Even if it was, _that-_" He said, pointing at Canada's aura, which was beginning to smoke slightly, "isn't."

Canada blushed, and his aura flared brighter in response. Alex stared, and I coughed awkwardly to get his attention again.

"If we told you, you wouldn't believe us," I said apologetically. He just folded his arms across his chest and stared.

"I was attacked by a woman with claws a foot long and solid black eyes. I was attacked by a freaking _monster,_" He said, his voice beginning to rise, "and you say that I won't believe you!?"

France hurriedly shushed him. "We don't want anyone- or any_thing_- hearing us, do we?" He whispered, glancing around at the trees, and Alex quickly quieted down.

I began to speak. "Well- for lack of a better word- We're immortal. I'm Joan of Arc, the Frenchwoman who fought the English five hundred years ago, while Kiku here," I gestured briefly at Japan, who nodded politely, "isn't even human, or never was. He's the living, breathing, immortal, virtually unkillable, powerful personification of Japan. Matthew is Canada, and Francis is, well, France. Any questions?" I asked sarcastically. Alex paused, his eyes wide and flicking back and forth between us with increasing rapidity. He opened his mouth to speak, and then, his eyes focused on something behind us and he croaked, "It's right there."

**line break**

I immediately jumped up and spun around, France, Canada, and Japan joining me, forming a little semi-circle around Alex.

"Create your armour," I hissed to them. "If she uses her voice, we're dead."

Within a moment, my silver armour flowed over my body, while Japan created what looked like samurai armour, Canada with hockey pads and a helmet, and France with medieval chain mail. I glanced at Canada, eyebrow raised, before looking back at the banshee.

She was beautiful, without a doubt, with black hair that fell past her waist, rippling softly in a nonexistent breeze. Her hands were hidden behind her body, which was shrouded in a thin white gown that brushed the forest floor. Her mouth and eyes were both closed, lending an eerie effect as Japan moved around it and the banshee's head followed the movement perfectly. Behind us, Alex muttered something incomprehensible and I could hear him press himself up against the stained tree. I glanced at France, my eyes flicking to certain places on the ground. He nodded, a miniscule movement, then turned and silently relayed the information to Canada. I was using a language of eye movements that had been created during the Hundred Year War, to communicate silently and without warning the English about our plans.

France turned back to me, nodded, and without any further ado, flung himself directly to the banshee's left. As her head tracked the movement, Canada flashed to her right and her head and one of her hands swung in his direction, her mouth opening slightly.

I shuddered when I saw the huge claws.

Canada neatly dodged her swipe, pulled a hockey stick out from nowhere, and began to fend off her blows with the wood, while Japan, having sneaked around back, started to attack her head furiously. Her hand jerked back and began to fend off both Nations.

As soon as France saw that the banshee was distracted, he attacked from the other side, wisps of pale blue curling off his rapier. The banshee's head snapped back to him, and her solid black eyes opened, so that while her head was facing one way, her eyes could face another. She whipped out her other and from behind and began to duel France, but hissed and recoiled when the flat of the blade touched her arm…

…And sank halfway through. I immediately saw what he had done; France had made the metal corrosive, so that even if the dull part touched the monster, she would still be hurt.

Canada immediately did the same, and while the banshee was thoroughly distracted, I rushed forward from the centre, broadsword raised to strike.

The creature immediately turned its head my way and screamed, a shockwave of sound blasting towards me. Alex covered his ears, while I simply smirked. My armour absorbed and deflected all sound.

The banshee shrank back, a look of surprise on its beautiful face, and in that moment, I stepped forward and sunk my blade into her chest.

She was dead and dissolved within moments.

I stepped back, hefted my sword, slid it in its sheath, and turned to face Alex, while the Nations around me did the same.

He was staring at us with wide eyes, looking both shocked and the tiniest bit admiring. I smiled gently, dropped into a low bow, then stepped back and linked my arms with the Nations. Within moments, we were gone, on our trek back to France.

"That's going to confuse him…" Canada murmured as we passed over the English Channel. I laughed.

"Why did you think I did it?"

**line break**

**Romania's training group**

(Romania's POV)

I strode back and forth in front of the small group, hands clasped behind my back and legs swinging widely with each step. Marethyu, Tsagaglalal, Sun-Yat Sen, Virginia, Billy all carefully watched my every moved, and I felt a twinge of shyness at their intense gazes. However, I swiftly quashed it and turned to face the assembled immortals.

"Yesterday," I began, "We reviewed simple skills; How to change colours of things. All of you already know how to do this, but I felt that we needed to review the concentration skills needed to learn this next skill, because it is much more difficult. We will learn how to change the shapes of things."

I could hear Billy snort a little, although I was not facing him, and a slight embarrassed blush crept onto my cheeks. I ignored it and continued.

"Not just anything. We are going to change the anatomy of living things themselves."

Billy immediately silenced and the rest of the immortals leaned forward, hanging on my words. I resumed my pacing.

"There are rules to this, of course. You cannot add or take away anything from the body when you change its shape, without it already being there. For example, if you want to make your arms longer, you would have to make at least some part of your bone structure hollow and use that bone to build the extra arm." I bared my overlong, sharp canines in a smile. "I lost a couple of molars for these."

Sun-Yat Sen shuddered slightly.

I closed my mouth. "If you want to create something completely different, like feathers, for example, you can take the base materials to create them out of your body and use those for the construction. Oh, and also," I snapped my fingers, remembering, "If you are touching another living thing, you can draw the elements from them. It has to be living, though. It also has to give them up willingly."

The immortals nodded along, looking interested, and I closed my eyes. A moment later, my maroon aura glowed brightly, its reassuring gold and silver lights flickering around me.

"Let me give you an example…" I murmured, and with a mental flick, became fully aware of my entire body. Drawing on a bit of energy, I carefully absorbed the material from my toenails into my skin, where it coursed through my body faster than thought and erupted into my fingernails. They each visibly grew by an inch, curving into wicked claws, and the immortals stumbled back in surprise. I opened my eyes, the aura fading back into my skin, and smiled. Careful of my claws, I reached down and pulled off my boot to reveal my toenail-less feet. The immortals stared, and I carefully drew my claws back into my toes. Before their startled eyes, toenails grew out of where flat beds once were and I allowed myself a small smile.

_Maybe this won't be so bad..._

I pulled my boot back on and straightened. "To use this skill, you need to have complete and full knowledge of your body. You need to be able to imagine it changing, forming itself. It takes much mental concentration and focus, and is much harder than it sounds. To start, do something simple, like changing your pupil's form or altering the structure of your face. Easy things. Now, try it out!" I clapped my hands sharply and they all shook their heads slightly, looking dazed, then wandered away to different parts of the lawn to practice. I strolled among them, occasionally making remarks or correcting.

Billy seemed to have the most trouble, having his eyes tightly squeezed shut and his brow furrowed, his red-purple aura dense and concentrated. But, time after time, he opened his eyes and nothing was changed. I took pity on him and decided to help.

"Billy," I said in a low voice. "What are you trying to change?"

He glanced up at me, an angry look in his eyes, and I shook my head. "I just want to help," I told him softly.

He looked away. "Trying to change my eye's shape."

I nodded. "It would look good on you, maybe with a green colour." As he was still looking away, I changed my eyes to a vibrant green, the pupils slitted like a cat's. Wen he glanced back, his eyes widened when he saw my eyes. I smiled slightly.

"Try it now."

He studied my face for a moment longer, scrutinizing the shape and exact colour, then closed his eyes again.

_He looks less tense this time, _I noted. _And a lot more confident._

And when he opened his eyes again, his aura dancing around the pupils, they were changed.

He peered at me anxiously and I smiled again, nodding, then turned away and continued on my stroll.

Soon after, when everyone could change something about their body, I assembled them again and said, "Now, here is the final challenge; Changing your whole body. You have all gained new knowledge about what you look like, so use elements from plants and change yourself entirely. Now, here's my plan…"

The immortals leaned closer and my voice dropped to a whisper, telling them exactly what we would do.

**Antarctica's combat group**

(Antarctica's POV)

The warm summer wind blew wildly around me, picking dust and grit off the ground and throwing the grass into ripples. America, Prussia, and I were standing on a bare hilltop overlooking the Portugese city of Porto, and we were all staring uncomfortably down at a deep rift in the dry ground.

Prussia was the first to speak. "Do ve really have to go down zhere? It looks like it just ends, and vill be cold and unawesome."

America shivered. "For once, I actually agree with the albino… It doesn't look fun…"

I sighed. "I don't like it any more than you do, trust me. But I will need to be teaching you both the magics of Wind and Water, and that would cause your auras to flare and light up the entire countryside. It would also draw down every single Elder, immortal, and monster to this one place. We need to go."

Prussia grumbled something, then straightened. "Vell, since I must prove my

awesomeness to everybody here, I vill go. Not because you want me to," He added, then descended into the rift.

America gave me a long look, appearing to be serious for once. I met his eyes evenly, and after a while, he sighed, having a somber aire about him. "I'm only doing this for you, Antarctica, because you're my friend. But no other reason. I _hate _small spaces…" He murmured, then, with a shudder, walked down the slope and into the caves. I watched his back for a moment, then, shaking my head, hopped down after them.

"Ow! Vatch vhere you put your feet!"

"Hey, I said I was sorry! Are we nearly there, 'Tica?"

"I hate that name…. And yeah, we're nearly at the main cavern, where we'll be able to light our auras. Oh, and-"

"Gaah!"

"Um… You should probably duck right about now?"

"Zhanks for zhe help, madchen…"

"Well… Um… You're welcome? We're at the main cavern now, so you can straighten up."

America was the first to bring his aura to blazing life, casting tendrils of red light over the stone walls. Prussia was next, with a cool gray illumination, creating sharp shadows, and I lit mine last, with the silvery blue glow rippling over the floor and ceiling. As their eyes steadily adjusted to the darkness, America and Prussia gasped and stared around at our vast surroundings. The cave was easily a hundred meters across and twenty meters high. Dangerous-looking stalactites dangled from the roof, where around the edges, stalagmites poked up from the ground, sometimes forming pillars. A cool wind whistled through the tunnels, ruffling our hair and blowing away the mix of aura scents that had been mingling in the air.

"This place is huge…" America whispered in awe.

I sat down cross-legged and nodded. "Also a great place to learn Air and Water magics, because of the cave's natural moisture and the tunnel walls, that amplify and concentrate any wind." Gesturing at them to sit down as well, I closed my eyes, and once I heard them settle, began to speak.

"Some say that all magics are different, and have different strengths. Well, that's bullshit. All magic, whether it be elemental or not, is directly connected to the power of one's aura, and we, as Nations, have auras that are much more powerful than the average immortal's. Therefore, we don't need to follow any set of words or rituals to make it safer.

"Let's begin with Air. It is one of the easiest magics to work with, because unlike Fire or Earth, the air and oxygen is all there for you to work with. All you need to do is shape and control it, and it will do your bidding." I puckered my lips and blew softly, that small breath quickly gathering power and turning into a wailing gust that rebounded off the walls and nearly pushed it over. I stopped concentrating, and it immediately faded away.

"So, you saw what I did there. I blew out a lungful of air, fed it a trickle of my aura, and let it gather power and speed from its surroundings. It is simple, and if I wished, I could have made it powerful enough to rip this cavern apart."

I could hear America and Prussia immediately suck in their breaths, and I quickly reassured them, "I won't do it, don't worry. You seem to forget that I would be _in _this cavern as it collapsed."

They relaxed, and I opened my eyes. Standing up, I brushed dirt and mud off my jeans and told them, "Let's try it now. Just… Restrain yourselves. Please."

**line break**

After about an hour of summoning smaller breezes and a few controlled gusts, I turned away and started to think about how to properly teach them Water. _I can't just tell them that they can do it… Water has to be activated, right? Now, what are the words again…?_

Behind my back, Prussia and America's auras flared sharply, and I didn't think much of it until their aura scents, gunpowder and pine needles, respectively, until Prussia shouted something in German and America said, "Antarctica? What… What is that!?"

I spun around, my aura blazing, and stopped. A black, roiling swarm of… _Something _was flooding up the walls of the cavern, covering the stone. I took a quick step forward and glanced up. The swarm seemed to be crawling out of cracks in the stone by the floor, and I gasped as I realized what they were.

"Prussia… America…. Get out of here. _Now._"

They paled and looked at me. I snapped. "Get out! They're stone eaters, they find faults in any kind of bedrock, widen it, and collapse it to kill anything under or around it. Then they eat the dead bodies."

Prussia looked at me, frowning. "Vhat does zhat have to do about it?"

"Because we're under about thirty meters of stone right now! Don't you remember how much descending we had to do to get here!? And what you think we'll be when it collapses!?"

"Dirty?" America suggested.

"_Dead." _I replied coldly. "If our bodies die, our country's spirits come back to it within minutes. How do you think they'll do that if our bodies are utterly destroyed by the swarm!?"

_Finally _the message got through to those idiots. They paled simultaneously and turned for the exit. Sprinting across the cave, the stone eaters already coating the ceiling, my heart pounding and my feet slapping hard against the rough floor, I was congratulating myself about warning the other Nations and getting them out on time when….

…A sharp crack sounded, echoing around the cavern. America froze, Prussia skidded, and I barely stopped myself from crashing into them. Slowly, as if they were on wires, our faces turned to the ceiling.

Flashes of daylight were showing through the black swarm.

"To the ground! NOW!" I yelled, and this time, they didn't hesitate. The Nations immediately dropped down to the floor, while I went down on one knee and focused. _I can't mess up… One slip in concentration and we're all dead._

A louder crack rang out, followed by a horrible crunching, grating sound, and the entire cave's ceiling fell down on us.

At the same moment, my aura blazed to life, brighter than I had ever managed it. A mighty gale whirled through the room, nearly picking America and Prussia off the floor and blowing straight up against the falling rocks. Their fall slowed, but some of the bigger ones would still crush our heads.

And worse, I could feel my strength flagging at an incredible rate. The wind that I was using to hold the rocks up wouldn't last much longer. I allowed myself a quick glance at America. He was lying flat on the ground, his eyes squeezed shut, but when I looked down at him, he met my eyes and gave me such a look of hope and trust that I felt my heart twist. _I have to do this. _I told myself firmly. _We all have to get out alive._

_Maybe it's time to use it…_

I nodded to myself as the rocks continued falling. Using just enough mental power to stop the stones from killing us, I sent a mental probe, through my body, to a tiny silver spark that glowed in the centre of my chest. My tendril poked at it, widened it, allowed it to grow, and then the silver highlights in my aura burst to a blazing incandescence. I felt my strength renewed, my power restored and added to, and with a mighty heave of the wind, shoved all the rocks to the far side of the cave, where they slammed against the remaining wall and crumpled.

There was silence, and then a horrible drain on my body. I felt suddenly light-headed and a wave of cold washed through my being, making me feel numb. I slumped to the side and would have collapsed to the ground if America hadn't caught me.

He stared at me, an expression of complete joy and relief on his face that I smiled.

"Thank you…" He breathed. I opened my mouth and was about to reply when a wave of black crashed over me and I fell unconscious.

(Omniscient POV)

America stared down at Antarctica, lying comatose in his arms, for a moment longer before hoisting her light body into his arms and standing up with ease.

"We need to get out of here, Prussia," He told the albino, feeling strangely serious and restrained. Prussia sensed the change in him and nodded, then followed the American out of the cave. _Vhat she did… Zhat vas very awesome… Nearly as awesome as me… _He thought to himself before hurrying back to France's house.

(Joan's POV)

Joan and her group made it back to France's mansion first. Tsagaglalal greeted us at the back door with a cheery smile, waving a hand at us to come in. Japan bowed graciously while Canada muttered, "Is it just me, or did she have claws?"

I followed the movements of Tsagaglalal's hands carefully as she walked, and stiffened in surprise when I saw curved, sharp claws curling from each fingertip.

"I think she does…" She whispered back. "I'm guessing Romania?"

France nodded. "Zat was always 'is specialty…"

The Watcher turned back to them, as if guessing what they were saying, and smiled again before disappearing into the house. Joan shook her head, muttering, "Weird…" While Japan stayed silent.

Marethyu saw the group next, and although Joan couldn't see his mouth under the usual scarf that covered the lower half of his face, she could tell that he was smiling.

"I think that he had too many fingers…" Japan murmured, and the group simultaneously turned to stare at Marethyu's hand. There were two thumbs.

"You know what?" Joan muttered. "They probably did this to confuse us and throw us off balance, so let's just ignore it."

Ad they made their way to the living room, they saw sharpened teeth on Shakespeare, hair on Palamedes' usually bald head, cat eyes on Billy, and a gaunt, sunken face on Virginia.

"Where is everybody else?" Joan asked Shakespeare while lounging on a couch.  
"Well, Norway and his group aren't back yet, but Sun Yat-Sen and Copernicus are both sleeping. They were tired." He explained quietly, then winced as he accidentally bit his tongue. "These teeth take a bit of getting used to…"

Joan giggled and sunk deeper into the couch's soft cushions, only to bolt upright in alarm as loud voices sounded from behind the house.

"Wanker! I'll be fine! I can walk on my own!"

"Ya idiot, ya just had yer ribcage destroyed by a camelopard! Ya will _not _be fine until Tsaga-something takes a look at ya."

"Um, I know-a that you have a lot-a sexual tensions or some-athing to release, but please, restrain yourselves until-a we get to the mansion."

"For vonce, I agree vis zhe Italian. Shut up."

"You shut-a up, potato bastardo!"

Joan shot to her feet. _Ribcage destroyed by a camelopard!? That doesn't sound good…_

"Get Tsagaglalal." She told Shakespeare, who nodded, paling, and dashed away to find the Watcher. Joan, on the other hand, hurried out of the house, her silver aura crackling around her hands, sparks jumping from finger.

Throwing open the back, she sprinted out, ready to aid in any way possible, only to skid to a halt when she saw the small group.

Scotland was fussing around his younger brother worriedly, supporting him by the shoulders and otherwise making it nearly impossible for England to move without thumping his older brother.

England seemed completely unconcerned with his apparent brush with death, looking none the worse for wear and having a completely healthy, un-crushed chest.

On either side of them, Germany and Romano seemed equally unconcerned, although Joan could see in Germany's occasional glances towards the blonde Nation and Romano's steadfast ignorance of the other three that they were both anxious about England's health.

Joan hurried towards them and asked worriedly, "England? Are you okay? I heard that-"

The blonde shrugged her off. "It was fine. I admit, we ran into a bit of trouble, when a camelopard managed to get its teeth into my shoulder. It lifted me off the ground and I was about to use my aura when a second one got me in the chest with a kick. The others disposed of them, and Scotland healed me."

Joan frowned. Even the way England was reporting it; calmly, and without emotion, worried her. "And is that all?"

England nodded, but Germany shook his head,

"Vhen England was preparing to attack, the gold unt silver lights in his aura had flared brightly and vere running down his skin like oil. Zhe ozzer camelopard hit him before he could use zhem, but vhen Scotland healed him, the gold vas glowing, had traveled down his arms unt onto England, unt zhat healed him. I zhink zhat England vas not telling zhe whole truth vhen he told us zhat he does not know vhat zhey are."

Joan nodded. "I noticed something like that, as well. While we were in Scotland, we had found a boy named Alex who was attacked by a banshee and barely alive. When Japan healed him, the glow was flickering, taking on a… Radiance, of sorts much different than the rest of his aura."

England forced a smile, although Joan could tell that he was feeling uncomfortable. "It is… Well, let's say that I know much more than I have been letting on. Antarctica and Portugal know as well, although they are obviously much better at keeping the secret than I."

"Hey! Dudes! A little help here!" America called, from a ways away. Without looking, Joan nodded at Scotland.

"Get your brother to Tsagaglalal," She told him quietly. "You may have mostly healed him, but there may still be issues."

Scotland nodded silently and guided England away, ignoring his brother's protestations. Joan sighed, watching them with a slight smile on her face, then turnd to deal with America.

"Oh my god what happened!?" She immediately shrieked when she saw the sorry-looking party. Prussia, America, and Antarctica were all streaked with dust, lending a gray pallor to their skin, but Antarctica was lying limp and unconscious in America's arms, looking unnaturally pale under the coating of dirt.

"Vell, ve vent to a cave in Portugal, to learn Vind unt Vater," Prussia began.

America continued, "But there were these really weird little things that Antarctica called stonemunchers or something like that and then the roof of the cave fell in and then she used some air or something, I dunno, to slow the rocks, but they were still falling and she looked tired and then this weird silver light appeared and then the rocks stopped and she destroyed them with the cave wall and then she fainted and I carried her home so yah." He finally stopped and took a huge gulp of air, and Joan stood perfectly still, in a state of shock.

"She… She stopped an entire cave ceiling from collapsing, just with wind?" She breathed. "I thought that only the most powerful of Elders could do that… Not even Sophie and Marethyu would dare, I think…"

The slightest tinge of pink, nearly completely unnoticeable, appeared on America's cheeks. "I think that she just really wanted to protect us," He explained.

Prussia nodded, and Joan was vaguely surprised to see him agreeing with the other hyperactive country. "She did. It vas very awesome…" He added in a tiny voice, and Joan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we need to get her in anyways, so, America, if you don't mind carrying her for a bit more, she can lie down and recover. You okay with that?"

When America nodded, she turned on her heel and led a small procession back to the mansion.

_I hope the other's groups went better than this…_

America gently deposited Antarctica's comatose body on a couch, arranging her limbs so that she would be more comfortable, then turned to Joan, who had slumped down on a chair.

"What do we do now, Joan?" He asked quietly. Joan glanced around at the room, from Tsagaglalal, who was tending to England while he argued nonstop, to Antarctica, lying sleeping on the couch, to Portugal, who had just entered through the door.

_Wait… Portugal!?_

Joan jumped to her feet. "Portugal! You're back! Where are Italy and China?"

She smiled wanly and brushed her hair back off her face. "Right behind me."

Italy peeped his head out from under Portugal's arm, which was pressed against the doorframe, and grinned cheerily. "Hi, Joan! How are-a you?"

Joan grinned back. No matter what, Italy always cheered her up. "Tired. We had to deal with a banshee in Scotland, and when we got back here, we had to deal with a couple of crises." She gestured towards England and Antarctica.

"England got bit, and then his chest was caved in by a camelopard. Scotland healed him, though," She added hurriedly when she saw the tanned Nation's horrified expression.

"And then, while she was in a cave teaching Prussia and America, Antarctica and her group got attacked by stone eaters. They caused the cave's roof to cave in, and she used wind to stop, then move aside the rocks. She collapsed, though, on account of exhaustion."

Portugal gasped and hurried over to her friend's side, wincing whenever she took a step.

"What's wrong?" Joan asked China in a low voice as he passed.

"Southern Akhlut, aru." He explained quietly, and Joan paled.

_Why is everybody's group going so wrong!?_

Just then, a knock on the back door sounded and Joan headed over to open it, almost dreading what she would see.

_If anybody else gets hurt, we'll be in serious trouble. Japan's exhausted, and Tsagaglalal can't deal with everybody…_

"Joan! How are you, m'dear?" Francis cried happily when Joan opened the door and swept her into a tight hug. Joan smiled.

"I'm fine, myself. Just tired. How are you? And was anybody hurt?"

Francis frowned and stepped back. "No. Why?"

Joan sighed with relief and hugged Francis back warmly. "You'll see. I've been kept on my toes…"

"Is Antarctica okay?" Norway asked anxiously. "I need to talk to her."

Joan's brow furrowed. _Shouldn't you be more worried about her than your need to talk?_

"She's fine. Well, it's hard to tell, since she hasn't woken yet, but she's probably going to be okay. Tired, though."

"What!?" The entire group demanded simultaneously, and Joan had to restrain a giggle.

"You should hear yourselves… Anyways, yes, there's been a few… Mishaps."

In a few minutes, Joan had quickly explained to everyone their situation, and Norway's group crowded anxiously inside.

In the living room, Tsagaglalal had finished fussing over England and had moved on to Portugal, who refused to move from Antarctica's side. The Watcher had to do by kneeling down behind her and passing her hands over where she was hurt.

Norway was on his knees by Antarctica's head, gently stroking her brow, looking paler than usual, with sweat breaking out on his brow. America had rested his elbows on the couch's back and was watching Antarctica's face intently, worry clear in his vivid eyes.

A smile plucked at Joan's lips when she saw the blonde Nation's obvious devotion, then turned to Francis, who had settled himself down beside her, and began to quiz him about his lessons.

"Well, we met the phoenix, her name was Nurania and it was weird, you know? She could see into our minds, our thoughts, without even trying, and she knew these… _Things _about us that we had never told anyone, let alone her.

"And what did she say about you?" Joan asked lightly.

Francis met her gray eyes with an even stare, not betraying any emotion. "She said that I'm a loyal and devoted husband."

Joan grinned and leaned forward to peck him on the cheek. "That you are."

Francis grinned, and Joan thought that she could detect something like relief in his smile.

_No… It couldn't be! Why would he be relieved about something? We haven't had very much relief today…_

"Hey, dudes! 'Tarctica's awake!"

_Scratch that._

"I told you, I hate that name…" A familiar voice grumbled, although it was tinged with fatigue. Joan jumped up and hurried over to her friend, forcing her way through the cluster of Immortals that had gathered and squeezing between Telemann and Sophie.

"Antarctica! How are you feeling?" Norway asked worriedly, crouching down and holding on to one of her hands. Joan smiled internally. _That's better._

She groaned and rubbed at her temples. "Like I just stopped a cave from collapsing. You?"

"I'm fine, myself, just worried." The Nordic replied, albeit shakily.

"Antarctica!" England called from behind the mob. "Out of the way, you buggers," He added, and the crowd willingly parted. The Brit went down on one knee.

"Do you think that you're capable of doing a lot of explaining?" He asked steadily.

Antarctica nodded. "Yeah, I should be, why?- Oh, no. You're not going to tell them." She said as her face fell.

England nodded. "I must."

"Are you crazy!? This is one of the Nation's greatest secrets! What if somebody got a hold of it!?" Portugal demanded.

England glanced towards her. "It's the Nation's greatest secret, but we haven't let any other Nations know about it besides ourselves. And don't you trust the immortals? They are our friends, and have stood by us. They will keep it to themselves."

Cowed, the Hispanic Nation ducked her head while Scathach asked testily, "And are you ever going to tell us about this secret?"

England glared at her for a moment, then sighed. "Yes. It's time to tell you about the silver and gold."

**line break**

Antarctica began, "Every single country has something unique about it, something special. It could be an ability like America's strength," She nodded at the other Nation, who was still hovering over her, "Or it could be something a bit more subtle, like, like Scotland's extreme ability to hold his liquor, or China's natural skill at martial arts. We call that unique thing, that ability or power or talent, a Nation's essence."

"But that is only one manifestation of an essence," Portugal continued. "England and Antarctica and I figured that a Nation's essence doesn't just come as an ability. We believe that it makes us who we are, what we look like, shapes our entire being."

"And there are two parts to every essence; the land, and the people. The land gives us our body's shape, our form, while our people gives us our mind, our thoughts, our personalities. And, as Antarctica said, there is another manifestation of our essence."

"In our auras." Antarctica finished. "The gold is the land, while the silver is the people. If we must, we can draw upon an entire country's worth of power, to augment our auras."

Joan actually stumbled back a few paces, along with the rest. _Their essence! It makes sense, but… This is just too weird._

Portugal gazed around at the dumbstruck Immortals. "Any questions?"

Everybody just stared. Joan could see the mouths of several Immortals working, including America, Prussia, and Niten, but no sound came out.

England nodded. "Good. Let's go eat. I'm hungry.

(Antarctica's POV)

After feeling a supreme rush of satisfaction at seeing everybody's shocked, dumbstruck faces, Antarctica watched England and Portugal usher the rest of the Immortals out of the room with a smile, then stood up and went to join them. Her legs were trembling slightly and she was _starving._

"Antarctica." A quiet voice behind her said, and Antarctica spun around in surprise to see Norway standing quietly behind her. She plopped back onto the couch.

"Jeez, Norway, you scared me. Please don't do that…" She sighed, pressing a hand to her face. Norway sat down beside her.

"I know, it's just….. I really need to talk to you." He said, glancing up.

Antarctica straightened. "Yeah? What is it, Norway?"

The Nordic sighed and looked down. "I-I'm not sure how to say this…."

Antarctica laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "You can tell me anything you want. I won't be mad."

He took a breath. "Remember how we first met? How you were visiting the north, to see what it was like? You saw me, having some trouble with… An Ijiraq, wasn't it?"

Antarctica nodded. The shape-shifters were deadly.

"An Ijiraq. And instead of looking away and avoiding the fight, like any sane person would, you jumped right in and saved my life."

Antarctica smiled. "Yup."

"And we've spent a long time together, happy and peaceful…"

Antarctica frowned. _It's like… He's sounding wistful, like we won't be happy and peaceful again. _"What do you mean? It's not like our relationship is ending or anything… Is it?"  
Norway looked up at her, and something in his dark eyes firmed. "Yes, it is, Antarctica. It has to."

She felt like she had been punched in the gut. "Why…?' She managed.

He sighed. "I've been cheating on you, Antarctica. For over a year now."

She felt even worse. "…Who?"

"Svalbard. I'm sorry, I know I should have stayed loyal, but, I just… Couldn't…"

A tear shivered on the edge of Antarctica's eyelashes, but refused to fall. It would have been easier if it fell, if she had some kind of release to the pain that was building inside.

"Leave." She said in a quiet voice.

"What?"

"Leave. Leave me alone. _Leave me alone, goddamnit! Just go!_"

And without another word, she stood up and swept out of the room, her thoughts in a crazy jumble. Antarctica ran down the hall, raced up the stairs, and arrived outside the door of Norway's room. _No. I'm not going in there. Screw this._

Turning away, she walked down the hall and back down the stairs, tearing open the door to the first room that she came to, she didn't care whose. As a worried murmuring built up in the kitchen, Antarctica stumbled over the carpet, made her way to the bed, and collapsed on top of it.

She just wanted to sleep, and to forget.

**END OF DAY 2**

**I'm sorry, Antarctica… It had to happen…**

**Aaaanyways, sorry again for the super duper long wait for this chapter…**

**I was being lazy, and I didn't devote nearly enough time to this :/**

**Sorry!**

**On a brighter note, I would like to thank IOU1882 for her (extraordinarily) nice review, the follow, and the favourite. It really inspired me to finish **

**And thank you as always to PaintingMornings, and her constant support of this story! We have a long way to go still, so stick with me, peopleses!**

**Wuvs~**


	14. Chapter 14- Day 3 Part 1

(Antarctica's POV)

That night, Antarctica had tortured dreams, where shadowy, half-seen creatures flitted at the edge of her vision and where she could hear fists and shouts pounding and thrumming from all around her, making her body toss and turn, sweating profusely.

The one that she had before she woke was the worst.

The dream was sharp, unusual in its clarity.

She was standing on a glacier, one that she recognized, a glacier in Prydz Bay by her homeland. Snow was whirling around her, and she could actually feel the individual flakes touching her skin and sticking, not melting. The sharp, keening moan of wind filled her ears, followed by the crisp smell of freshly-fallen snow. Water and ice stretched for as far as she could see, the blue startling against the white.

On a whim, Antarctica slowly closed her dream-self's eyes, and when she opened them again, the countries and immortals were standing in a small semi-circle around her.

She smiled, glad to see her friends, but their faces were shadowed and blank, eyes glinting coldly.

"Why are you here, Antarctica?" Dream-Joan asked, her voice barely heard above the wind.

"Why are you with us?" Scathach continued.

"You aren't even a real country," England sneered.

Antarctica stumbled a step back, until she came to the edge of the glacier.

"You can't help us. You're too weak." Portugal growled.

"Ice can only kill. It can only kill, and hurt." Saint-Germain said, a snarl on his usually cheerful face.

"And that's all you are. Ice."

"Pain."

"Fear."

"Cold."

"_Death._" They all said at once.

"Did you actually think that anybody would ever love you? Ever want to be with you?" Dream-Norway said quietly. "Ever want to stay with you?"

"Shut up!" She yelled, and the blizzard quickened, wind gusting at her.

Niten chuckled darkly. "That's arr you can do?"

Dream-America stepped forward. Antarctica searched his eyes desperately for the warmth, the cheerfulness that they always held, but they were like voids.

"You're pathetic." He whispered, bending over her. "Pathetic and stupid. How could you think that I would even look at you twice? Your hair is the most noticeable thing about you."

She shook her head, taking a step back. The heel of her foot jutted over the edge of the ice precariously.

"You're pathetic and stupid and weak and ugly and cold, so cold. You make me sick." He hissed. Tears prickled at Antarctica's eyes and she shook her head again, mute.

"You know what?" America asked, raising his voice slightly. "You should die. Just go and die. Do us all a favour."

He advanced and grasped her shoulders, fingers digging into her skin painfully. Antarctica's foot slipped, until she was dangling over the water with only Dream-America to hold her up.

He placed his mouth by her ear, still holding on to her tightly. "Die." He murmured, sounding almost gentle.

And then he let go.

Antarctica tumbled through the cold air, falling to the bone-breaking impact that would follow. The last thing she saw before she hit was Dream-America's dark, bottomless eyes.

**line break**

With a gasp, Antarctica jolted awake and sat up straight, clutching a hand to her chest, sweat rolling down her forehead. As she panted, still half-asleep, her aura flickered around her hands and the temperature in the room plummeted by twenty degrees. Her breath began to steam, and, beside her, the bed shifted as someone rolled over, dragging the covers with them. Unconsciously, she nodded. _That's right… After my, um, conversation, with Norway…_ She shuddered when she thought his name. _… Didn't I just fall asleep in the first room that I came to? Right._

Turning to see whose room she had taken, her eyes fell on the other person and she immediately cried out.

"Oh, for -bleep's- sake!"

America immediately snapped open his eyes and shot up, staring around him wildly. "What? What? What is it!?"

His eyes finally fell on her. "Oh, hi there Antarctica!" He said cheerfully. "What are you doing awake?"

"Oh… Um… Isn't it the morning?"

He regarded her with a confused expression. "Well, yeah, if you count 2 o'clock being the morning."

She flopped back into her pillow. "Oh. Never mind then."

He lay down beside her, and she could feel his eyes resting on her. A blush crept up her cheeks and Antarctica snapped, "What is it!?"

"What happened, last night?" He asked gently, without any of his usual idiocy or refusal to sense the mood.

Antarctica rolled away from him so that he was facing her back. "Nothing."

"Tell me. Please."

"I told you. It was nothing."

An edge of annoyance crept into his voice. "Antarctica, you're one of the strongest and calmest people that I know. You wouldn't get angry and storm into my room for no reason. Tell me."

She sighed, her entire body deflating. "Nothing." She said in a small voice.

America gently rested a hand on her arm. "You can tell me. I won't tell anybody else, I promise."

Steeling herself to face the reality, Antarctica whispered, "Norway was cheating on me. With Svalbard. For over a year."

His hand tensed on her arm. "Cheating?" He whispered back in a deathly soft voice.

Still facing away from him, Antarctica nodded, unable to speak past the lump that had formed in her throat.

All of the sudden, America's other arm reached over and wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight hug. "I swear, I'll kill him…" He muttered.

She nodded, tears stabbing at her eyes and blurring her vision, and hugged back.

And they stayed that way for while, until they were both ready to fall back asleep. As her eyes drooped ever lower, Antarctica thought of one last thing.

"America?" She whispered.

America shifted. "Yeah?"

"Do you think that I'm pathetic? Pathetic and stupid and weak and ugly?"

A hand smoothed her hair back. "Of course not."

She smiled and cuddled into his embrace. "That's good." She mumbled before she finally fell back asleep.

(Joan's POV)

Joan woke early the next morning in Romania's bed, the sun just beginning to show its rays over the horizon.

_For how long with this be going on…? _She wondered as she eased herself out from under the Nation's blankets. Romania mumbled something, briefly baring his sharp teeth, before rolling over.

Hurrying down the hallways, Joan paused before Francis' and her room, then decided against entering and headed away to the kitchen, to prepare herself some breakfast.

"Joan! Bonjour! 'Ow are you?" France called cheerily, toiling over the oven on some French dish

_Damn you, France. Why do your breakfasts have to be so complicated? _Joan thought. On the outside, she replied smoothly, "I'm fine, France. Thank for asking. And you?"

"I am feeling very fine myself, thank you very much! Would you like to 'elp with breakfast?" He asked, his aqua eyes twinkling.

Joan smiled and nodded slightly, then walked over to the counter to help.

_Wait… I was just complaining about him being here… Now I'm going to help him with one of his breakfasts? Something's wrong with me…_

But, nevertheless, she asked France, "So, what are you making today?"

"Just a few breakfast casseroles, nothing too tricky!"

_Nothing too tricky!?_

France was staring at Joan with an odd look on his face. "No, nothing too tricky…" He said, almost cautiously, and she blushed when she realized that she had spoken out loud.

"Sorry," Joan apologized abashedly. "Still half asleep, I guess."

He nodded, turning back to the stove. "Makes sense. Sleepwalkers don't usually 'ave very relaxing sleeps."

Joan flushed, redness creeping up her neck. "How did you know that I'm a sleepwalker?"

She could see him smile from the side, a glint in his eyes. "Because you walked into my bed a couple of nights ago, and this morning you were in Romania's."

"Gaah!" Joan spun around and hid her face in an apron. "I hate my liiiiiife…." She moaned, her skin glowing with embarrassment.

France laid a hand on a shoulder and she twisted her head around, glowering.

"Um…" He began, quailing under the force of her glare. "Don't worry? I didn't mind." He added hurriedly, looking away, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

Joan frowned. _Since when does _France, _of all people, get shy?_

"Erhem." France coughed into his fist, looking awkward. "Shall we get started with the casseroles?"

Joan shook her head. "Right. Yes. Um. What do you want me to do?"

And, like that, for the next half hour, they toiled together over the breakfast, chopping, mixing, kneading, and casseroling until they had an assortment of breakfast dishes that would have made England cry. As France popped them on a tray into the oven, Joan said, "I'm gonna go to the living room for a bit. Watch the sunrise, you know?"

France nodded, focusing on not burning his hands, and Joan sighed and walked away.

When she reached the living room, she saw an odd sight; England, sprawled out on a couch, face down and snoring gently. Her curiosity piqued, Joan walked around the armrest and poked him in the shoulder.

He kept on sleeping.

"Iggy? Wake up." She whispered, poking him more vigorously.

"Come ooon, Iiiggyyy…." Joan warbled, tickling him in the sides.

He still didn't wake up.

Joan knelt down, brought her mouth close to his ear, and whispered softly, "I have tweezers and I'm not afraid to use them."

England jolted awake. "Don't you dare touch my eyebrows!" He yelled, flipping over and lashing out at Joan's imaginary tweezers.

She burst into laughter. "Oh…. My… God… You should have seen your face! HAH!" She gasped, tears beginning to stream down her face.

England straightened, scowling. "You wouldn't think it was funny if you had eyebrows like mine," He grumbled, looking away.

Joan nodded, beginning to control herself. "Yeah… I probably would…"

"Hmph."

She decided to change the subject. "So, why are you sleeping on the couch out here?"

England looked back. "Hm? Oh, because last night, when we went to bed, America and I found Antarctica sprawled out on the covers, so, since we didn't want to move her, America took the bed and I, being the gentleman, took the couch."

Her gut twisted in sympathy. "Do you know what happened last night?"

He shook his head. "We didn't want to wake her to ask. All I know is that Norway and her had an argument, and she got angry enough to yell and storm away."

Joan snorted. "Well, I could have guessed _that… _I'll go check on her, see how she's doing."

England nodded. "That would be a good idea…"

Joan nodded back and walked away, navigating the maze of France's mansion until she came to America's room. Gently twisting the handle and silently opening the door, Joan poked her head inside to see how they were.

America and Antarctica were curled up tightly together, their faces both peaceful and calm, although Antarctica's looked a bit red and damp, like she had been crying in her sleep. As Joan watched, her body trembled and shifted, and her chin quivered slightly, like she was having a bad dream. America's arms tightened around her, then his eyes opened and looked down at her, a small smile on his face. Joan ducked back out and closed the door behind her.

_How long had he been awake for, just making sure that she slept well? _Joan wondered. But she couldn't stop a tiny grin from slipping onto her face as she walked back to the kitchen.

"Antarctica's sleeping, although it looks like she's having nightmares," Joan informed England. "America's awake, though."

England stood up. "Good. Then, I can talk to him about-"

Joan laid a hand on his arm, stopping him. "It would be best not to bother them," She said quietly. "Leave them be for now, and when they wake, you can talk to America. But not now."

England paused, then nodded when he got her meaning, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Oh for-! They aren't doing anything like _that, _America's just helping Antarctica sleep through her nightmares. For a gentleman, you can have a weird way of thinking sometimes…" She muttered.

England blushed even darker and turned away. Joan rolled her eyes.

"Joan! The casseroles are ready! Can you go and wake everybody up?" France called from the kitchen, and the smell of something delicious wafted through the doorway.

Practically drooling, Joan began to wander through the house, waking everybody up.

She woke Norway first, pounding hard and loud on his doorway with both of her fists. _Not exactly a nice awakening, _she though with glee, _but I think it's what he deserves._

Moving on to Billy and Virginia, who she woke in a much nicer way, then to Germany and Italy, who she woke in an even better way, Joan soon had a procession of sleepy Immortals following her to the kitchen. _If Tartarus ever wanted to take us down without a fight, _Joan thought with amusement, _he could just cook us something tasty and we'd all be at his mercy…_

Last, she knocked gently on America and Antarctica's door, then stuck her head inside. "Guys?" Joan asked softly. "We have breakfast ready. Wanna come eat?"

Antarctica raised her head, blinking sleepily. "Hm? Food?"

Beside her, America sat up straight. "Man, you have food!? Why didn't ya tell me, bro!?"

"Um…" Joan mumbled. "I just did?"

"Oh. Right." Without another word, he scrambled out from under the covers and raced out of the room, his bare feet thumping heavily on the floor. Antarctica watched him go with a tiny smile on her face, and Joan sat down beside her.

"Do… Do you want to talk about what happened last night?" Joan asked cautiously. "Between you and Norway, I mean."

Antarctica stared blankly at the covers. "I would rather not."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I want to keep this just between him and I."

Joan hesitated, then got up. "If you don't want to talk about it, can you at least have some breakfast?"

She smiled. "Sure. I'm starving!"

**line break**

Joan and Antarctica walked together out into the kitchen, where everybody else was already beginning to dig in. When Norway saw Antarctica, he looked over at her and tried to catch her eye, but they both ignored him and went over to sit between France and America.

"H-hey, America," Antarctica said shakily, trying and failing at a smile. She kept her head bowed slightly, not looking all the way up, and her shoulders hunched as she grabbed a casserole and began to eat.

Joan watched her anxiously for a moment, then turned away and chatted lightly to France while keeping half an eye on the pale Nation.

"Excuse me," A quiet voice said. Norway's voice. Joan winced.

"May I sit here, please?" Risking a glance, Joan saw that he was standing directly behind America.

She immediately turned away.

"No, you may not," America replied in a tight voice.

"Um…" Norway obviously wasn't expecting that response. "Please? I need to talk to Antarctica."

Joan peeked back. America's entire body was tense, and his face was hard and angry.

Antarctica laid a hand on his forearm. "Let me deal with him, okay?" She said softly, then stood up and faced Norway. The entire table went silent.

"Norway," She began quietly. "I know that you're sorry. I know that you want to apologize. And, honestly, if you had told me earlier that you were _cheating_," An audible gasp went around the table. Joan stared, stunned. ", if you had just told me that you wanted to break up a year ago, then I would have been fine. I would have forgiven, and eventually forgotten. But, instead, you waited until five days before we might _die_, at the most stressful point in my long, long life. Did you not _think_ that it would have just made things worse? Did you just think that I would accept it!?" She demanded. "Just tell me why! Tell me why I wasn't good enough for you!" A desperate note entered her voice.

Norway looked awkwardly. "Well, um, um, it was just that…. We didn't see each other often enough?" He offered weakly.

Antarctica glared. "I visited you every weekend, for the whole weekend, and besides, you're the most anti-social Nation that I know. That isn't a reason."

Norway blushed. "Well, um…. I like Svalbard more than I like you, okay?" He snapped, and Antarctica recoiled as if stung.

"She's quieter, and more polite, and honestly, she's more my type than you are. You're… I don't know. I _like _you, but… I'm not sure that I like you the way I like her…" He finished awkwardly.

"Did you ever try to like me the way you like her?" She asked quietly, pain resonating in every word.

Norway's silence was enough.

Antarctica turned away. "Fine. If that's the way you feel… Then be with her. Spend as much time with Svalbard, because, honestly, I don't care anymore. I don't hate you, but I sure as hell don't love you."

And then she sat back down beside America, refusing to look at Norway again.

Joan looked away, feeling almost embarrassed that she had seen something as personal as that.

"Well… That was… Strange…" France muttered from beside her.

"Yeah, no kidding. I can't believe that Norway was _cheating _on her…"

"I can." France replied, and Joan shot him a surprised glance. He blushed and remedied, "Well, I could just tell from the start that they weren't exactly compatible types. I think that Antarctica just 'as too much energy for 'im, because 'e's quite a bit more mellow. Also, Norway's shy, so 'e wouldn't just tell 'er up straight that 'e wanted to break up. He would have just went behind 'er back instead."

Joan stared at him, impressed. "How could you tell? And why didn't you tell them?"

He shrugged expansively. "Sometimes you need to let your children make their own mistakes, no?"

Joan deadpanned. "For one, isn't Norway older than you? And how old is Antarctica, anyways? Also; since when are either of them your children?"

He grinned. "Actually, no; The Frankish Kingdom was unified in 486, non? While Norway came into existence, oh, I don't know, 1141 years ago? And besides; I'm the big brother of Europe! That means that all European countries are my little siblings!"

Joan deadpanned. "You said that they're your children… And that still doesn't answer my question about how old Antarctica is…"

A frown appeared on France's face. "I 'ave no idea…. 'Ey, Antarctica, 'ow old are you?" He called.

The southern Nation raised her head. "Hm? Why?"

"Just curious."

She scrunched up her eyes in concentration. "Uhhh… Well, I was first seen in 1820, but a group of ice mages began inhabiting my land in, what was it again….? Oh yeah, about 322 BC! That's when I came into existence, more or less." She said cheerily.

France paled. "That makes you, what, 2300 years old?"

"2335 years!" She replied cheerily.

Joan shook her head. "Two thousand years… Isn't it hard, to live for that long?"

Antarctica nodded. "Yeah, sometimes, I feel the weight of my years weighing me down, but, you know, if China can be fine for this long, with a lot more to worry about, so can I!"

"What? Did someone say my name aru?" China asked, and Joan flapped her arm at him.

"Nothing, aru." She replied.

"Hey! Are you making fun of the way I speak, aru!?"

"No, aru." Joan said with a devilish grin.

"Hmph."

"Did you hear that!?" Joan gasped, turning to France. "He didn't end his sentence with 'aru'!"

"And I can do it again!" China snapped.

"Yay!~ I'm so proud…" Portugal exclaimed, hugging China and giving him a peck on the cheek.

"If I don't say 'aru', can I get a kiss, too?" Scotland asked innocently, turning from his seat to her right.

"No. Shush." Scathach grumbled, swatting him on the arm.

"Wha? Can I get one from you, instead, then?" The gregarious Nation asked.

Scathach turned away, blushing and not replying. Scotland swooped in and pecked her on the cheek.

Scathach blushed redder and hid her face in her hands. Scotland smirked cheekily. "At least I get my kiss."

The Celtic goddess raised her head slightly, then shyly pecked him back and it was Scotland's turn to blush.

"And about time too…" Joan murmured, smiling at the two Immortal's awkwardness.

"Oi. You two. Get a room or something." England grumbled. "And besides, I've decided."

"Decided vhat?" Copernicus asked lazily, lounging on his chair.

England shot him a glare. "I was about to get to that…. I've decided that this is the day we will begin scouting missions, try to find out where Tartarus will try to awaken Gaia. We already know the when, but-"

"We don't need to go scouting at all," America interrupted.

England's stare would have killed a human. "And why not, exactly?" He asked in a deadly voice.

America shrugged. "I actually just figured this out myself- Can't we ask Tony to get in contact with the Pictos? I mean, they probably were doing surveys and researching our planet years before they ever decided to invade. They almost definitely know something about Tartarus, and if not him, then certainly Gaia. I mean, it's kinda hard to ignore some kind of weird energy being, right?"

The room went silent.

"America," Japan began. "That was very intelligent of you."

"For once, I agree," England muttered. "That has to be the most intelligent thing that you've said in decades."

"Hey!" America protested. "I'm smart! I just don't always feel like _acting _smart."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Sure…"

"Anyways," Joan interrupted hurriedly before a fight could begin. "Could you actually _contact _this… Tony, then? We need to know as soon as possible."

"Oh. Right. Sure." With a sweep of his arm, America cleared a small area on the table, then pulled out a laptop from nowhere and began typing rapidly on it.

"Oh, and just saying," He added, focused on the screen, "Tony has had a few bad experiences with people he doesn't know, so could everybody that doesn't know him clear out, please? He might not agree to help if you don't."

"I'm staying," Joan stated firmly and crossing her arms over her chest. "But you're asking… How many people know him?"

"The Axis, the Allies, Romano, Canada, Prussia, Scotland, Portugal, Antarctica." He replied, still typing.

"So, you're asking all the immortals-" Palamedes began angrily.

"Not all the immortals. Joan's staying. And Norway and Romania are going, too."

Aoife hissed in anger, while Niten hurriedly bowed and shuffled back, out of the room. One by one, all of them grumbling about it, the Immortals cleared away.

"Was that wise?" Joan asked quietly, still with her arms crossed.

"Probably not." America replied. "But nessecary." Hitting a final key, the computer booped loudly, the screen shimmered, and the image of what looked like a… Gray, skinny midget with gigantic red eyes appeared, surrounded by high-tech equipment.

"Tony! My man! How the hell are ya!?" America exclaimed loudly.

"-bleeping -bleep-."

"Oh, don't worry, her name's Joan! She's cool!"

_How does he understand that!?_

"-bleep- -bleep-."

"Well, bro, do ya remember the Pictos? Weird faceless guys that invaded our planet a while ago? Do ya think that you can get us in touch with'em?"

Tony poked at a button on his console.

"Yeah, sure. Just hold on a moment and I can get you a video link hooked up," The alien replied in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.

_I guess that was a translator he activated…?_

Tony spun around on his chair, slurping loudly on a soft drink, and began to type swiftly. "Hold on… Just a moment… Nearly there…. Just about got it…. There we go!"

The screen blinked black, and just as Joan was about to suggest to charge the laptop when the screen fizzled and what looked like a faceless girl with a smiling face sharpied onto it appeared.

"Greetings. It is a pleasure to see you all again. What can I do for you?" She asked softly.

America gestured at Joan, and, slightly surprised, Joan slid into America's chair as he got up.

"Hello. My name is Jeanne d'Arc, and I am a human immortal living on planet earth."

"Really? An immortal? I've never seen one before."

Joan bowed her head. _So, they've heard of immortals before…_

"And I've never seen a Picto before today," She replied smoothly. "But, as interesting as this meeting is, I'm afraid that I must cut it short."

"Oh? And why is that?"  
"Madame, me and my friends have come to beg for your aid. In four days, a creature called Tartarus plans to awaken Gaia, the energy being that resides in our planet. We were hoping to stop this from happening, for if it did, our planet would simply cease to exist, turned into energy and slag so that Tartarus can create a new race of his people, for he is the last one."

The Picto seemed startled. "Is that so… Well, then, since I and my race owe an obligation to Earth, I suppose that I had better help in any way possible."

Joan was equally startled. "You… You owe an obligation to Earth?"

She laughed, or made a sound that sounded like a laugh. "Of course we do! Your friends, the countries, taught us the value of uniqueness, of change. It has taught us as an entire race to value qualities other than uniform normality. Now, how can I help you?"

**line break**

Joan was startled, but was careful not to let any show on her face. "Very well. We need to much as possible about Gaia, and where Tartarus will try to find it. We have already heard from an Archon that Tartarus will arrive on the surface tomorrow, and it will take him three days to reach where Gaia sleeps."

The Picto snorted. "Wrong. We have been keeping track of Tartarus for many years; he's still in his Shadowrealm. Even if he left today, it would take him a day of your time to reach here, but to get to the core would only take moments. Even so, I do not believe that he will leave today. From what our spies have told us, he is still preparing in his Shadowrealm, but what he preparing, I do not know."

"Why would it take him only a day to reach here?" Joan queried.

"We have seen Tartarus, using stolen Archon technology and his own auric ability, create leygates to move through Shadowrealms. However, the generator he uses takes a long time to charge, and he has to move through so many different Shadowrealms, getting challenged by their inhabitants along the way, so it wouldn't be instantaneous. However, once he reaches Earth, he can go from the surface to the core in an instant."

Joan nodded. "That makes sense. Anything else you know that we can use?"

The Picto said, "If you want to know, I suspect that there is only one place that he will try to reach the core; the place where a tower called the Tor Ri once was, where many ley lines intersect. Tartarus will probably use the power from those lines to open the leygate needed instantaneously, without any cost to himself."

Italy interrupted. "But, where-a was the Tor Ri, anyways?"

Joan twisted her head around. "I know…. It is in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, above the Mid-Atlantic rift, close to the Strait of Gilbatrar."

"And how vould you know zhat?" Germany asked quietly.

"Because I was there when it fell," Was Joan's short response.

"How long ago was that, aru?" China asked curiously.

"Ten thousand years. Time travel," She explained quickly to her flabbergasted friends.

"Hey, Joan, I just realized…" Portugal began quietly. "Wouldn't Tartarus have followers, allies, in different Shadowrealms, to maybe continue the work he had started, if he failed?"

Joan nodded slowly, a plan began to form in her mind. "Yes, yes, you're quite right…" She turned to the monitor, where the Pico was waiting patiently.

"Do you know how to travel through Shadowrealms?" Joan asked.

"Yes, we do. Why?"

Joan bent close. "Here's what I need your people to do…" And, in a hushed tone, she began to explain her plan to the alien.

**line break**

(Saint-Germain's POV)

"Gaaah," Saint-Germain moaned, sprawled out on the grass with the rest of the Immortals. "Why do we have to wait out here while everybody else is actually deciding things!?"

Marethyu, who was beside him, remained silent, but Saint-Germain noticed a look of frustration on his face.

Norway sat a little ways away from everybody else, his arms wrapped around his knees and staring thoughtfully into the distance, not commenting on their predicament.

"Well," Romania began in a soft voice, "We may as well not waste our time here. Why don't we begin our lessons for today? Norway?"

The Nordic jolted his head up. "Um. Yeah. Sure." With a tiny sigh, he got up and walked over to where Romania was, a drag in his step.

Palamedes shuffled over to Saint-Germain. "He seems… Different," The Saracen Knight noted in his deep voice.

Saint-Germain glanced over at his friend. "Yeah, he does- Hey, look who's talking!"

Palamedes frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Saint-Germain pointed. "Pally. You're glowing."

Palamedes stared down at his hands in shock. "I am-? Wait, so are you!"

Saint-Germain stood up quickly, staring at the grayish, dirty glow that was hovering around his body. His head snapping up, he stared around at the group of Immortals. Every single one of them was glowing with the muddled light.

Sophie stared at her hands. "How is this possible?" She whispered.

And then, the wind changed, and a smell like mildew and wet stone washed over them, giving the sunny yard the feeling of a tomb. And, at that moment, Saint-Germain knew that something was very wrong.

And then, there was a twisting sensation in his gut, and the impression of moving without moving, and then all went black.

**Dun dun duuuun! Not a good sign, peopleses!**

**And I'm sooooooo sorry for the long wait, I've just been really lazy this last little while, and I recently got addicted to a new anime (it's called Blue Exorcist; check it out!) And yeah… Sorry, not much of an excuse….**

**Anyways, thank you as always to PaintingMornings and IOU1882! Even though it might not seem like it, your constant support and prodding has really motivated me to finish this off ^^'**

**So**

**Um**

**Yeah**

**Do the drill!**

**Wuvs~**


	15. Chapter 15- Day 3 Part 2

(Joan's POV)

Joan blinked her eyes and stretched her arms, having finally finished her chat with the Picto. "Well, that was stressful," She commented to nobody in particular. "It was the first time that I've talked with an alien."

Italy patted her on the back warmly. "Don't-a worry! They're nice, when they aren't-a trying to steal-a your face!~"

Joan paled. "Really. They could have stolen my face." She said with a blank voice.

France laughed. "Do not worry, _ma cherie! _I do not think that they steal faces anymore, and besides, who would want to steal a face as pretty as yours?" He added, winking.

Joan turned away, feeling a flush creeping up her cheeks. "Right. Um. We should go get the Immortals now, explain what's happening to them."

China bowed. "I'll go get them, aru! It'll only take a moment." And, with a flash of overlong sleeves and a ponytail, China left the room, and Joan turned back to the Nations, who, thankfully, seemed to be mostly calm at the moment.

"Right. So, now that we have the Picto's help, we should probably figure out how we're going to attack, and where. Can I have a map, please?"

"Si." Portugal grabbed a map off the top of a nearby shelf and handed it to Joan, who nodded.

"Thanks." Spreading the map out on a table, Joan took a pen and marked a spot in the Atlantic Ocean. "So, that's where the Tor Ri was, if I'm not mistaken. We can ask Tsagaglalal to confirm. Anyways, we have two options; using the Nation's power, we can walk over to there and hop into Tartarus' leygate right after he uses it, or we can have Marethyu open a gate for us. It'll have to be there, though, because I doubt that there are any ley lines we can travel on that go to the core."

England blinked. "I don't think that we'll be able to use Marethyu…. We won't know exactly where Tartarus will be heading, will we? If Marethyu creates his own leygate… We could be only a kilometer or so off, but we could also be half a planet away from where we would need to be… It looks like your first option would have to be the one we use, Joan…"

Joan bowed her head. "You're right… I don't like it, but it's all that we can do."

At that moment, China burst into the room, a wild look in his amber eyes. "The Immortals! They're gone! All of them, aru!"

Joan shot up straight. "What!?" Without a second thought, she sprinted out of the room, the entire contingent of Nations after her.

Throwing open the back door, Joan skidded to a halt on the lawn. The grass was swishing softly in a weak breeze and the leaves on the trees were trembling in the air, but the lawn itself was empty. A dank, sour odor was curling through the air, making Joan's throat constrict.

She fell to her knees. "They…. They're gone…"

Antarctica and Japan stuck their heads out. "What? Where could they have gone!?"

Tears were beginning to build at the corners of Joan's eyes. _Francis…_

"Smell the air." England told them quietly. "It doesn't match with any of their aura scents."

"But who would want to take them!?" France demanded. "And why not before!?"

"Only Tartarus vould vant to…" Germany mused. "Vho else vould have zhe power unt motivation? I'm guessing zhat he took zhem by surprise, but he still vould be dealing vith some of zhe most powerful auras in zhe world. Not even an Elder vould dare to take zhem on zheir own…"

"But… How would he know what we're trying to do!? None of us are spies, I'm sure of it. And you're right, France… Why not before!? What's different about now?" Portugal asked.

"…. Courd it be the birds and insects that are spying? And… Maybe he onry took them now because he didn't know before?" Japan guessed.

The voices faded to a faint, vaguely worried buzz in Joan's ears. She didn't know, or didn't want to know, what they were talking about. Only one thought kept tumbling through her head. _If anybody lays a single finger on Francis or my friends, I will burn them alive after beating them to within an inch of their life. _

A hand touched her on the shoulder, and then someone sat down beside her. Joan glanced up, only to jolt in surprise when she found herself looking into Scotland's eyes, tears trembling on his eyelids.

"I know how you feel, lassie…" He said in a quiet voice, his fist clenching so tightly that he drew blood, rivulets running down his wrist. "I swear, if Tartarus hurts Scathach, I'll kill him. I will."

Joan blinked, then grasped Scotland's unbloodied hand. "And I'll help… Scathach is like a sister to me."

Standing up, Joan turned and faced the Nations, who all fell silent when they saw the look on her face. "Nations of the world…" She began quietly.

"Tartarus will try to destroy the world. Tartarus wants to eliminate everything that we have ever loved, including ourselves, and he wants to use our remains to build more of his sick kind. In preparation, we trained for that. We taught and learned, but the time for learning is over.

"We were preparing, yes, but we were safe in the knowledge that we had our friends around us. Now, we can't even have that simple comfort." She said, her voice steadily beginning to rise.

"He took our friends, damnit! He took Francis, and Scathach, and Aoife, and Niten, and everybody that we've grown to like over the past few days. And who knows what he's doing to them!? Imagine what an Earthlord like him would to do punish people that were planning to kill him. Think of it!

"We're going to fight back! We will be giving it our all! You have all learned the basics of auric fighting. Now, you will need to figure out things for yourself. I will be fighting along each of you, as your friend and ally.

"Don't be scared to use your essences. Don't be afraid to pour all the strength you have into a single blow, because you will always be able to find more to do what is nessecary. We will have revenge for our friend's lives. I swear it."

The Nations were silent, until Romano stepped forward.

"Joan…" He began respectfully. "I will fight with and-a for you, as a friend."

"Unt I as vell. Ve cannot let zhis go unpunished."

"I might not care about Norway anymore, but I sure as hell care about the rest of them."

"Kidnapping zhem vas unawesome! He vill die from my awesomeness!"

"A-and I'll fight too, eh… Although it might not look like it, I can be strong if I want to."

"I'm-a going to kill him with pasta!~"

"Of course I'll help! I'm the hero, aren't I?"

"I'm going to punch him in the face, aru…"

"Si!~ Of course I will be helping, minha amiga!"

"I am royar. I wirr fight for you."

"An' of course I'll be there, lassie!"

"My beautiful face will paralyze 'im!"

"With every bone in my body, I shall help you until they are all broken."

Joan's heart swelled from their support. "Thank you, everybody… Thank you so much…"

England, the last one to speak, cleared his throat. "So, how do you suggest that we prepare without learning?"

Joan grinned devilishly. "We fight each other. Duels, contests, always switching around to learn other's skills and strengths. We will fight solo, in pairs, teams. We will learn how to fight in a group, how to cover each other's weaknesses. We're going to learn how to kill Tartarus."

After a moment's hesitation, the Nations filed back into the house, with respectful nods and smiles. Joan watched them go. _I will kill anything and everything in my way._

(Saint-Germain's POV)

I groaned and slowly blinked open my eyes, a pounding headache throbbing through my cranium and my mouth feeling dry and dehydrated. A sick feeling was roiling through my gut, making me cringe, and a nasty must permeated the air, making…. Wherever I was smell like a tomb.

"What happened?" I groaned, slowly lifting a hand to my temples. Looking around, I saw that….

Well, I still didn't know where I was…

I was sitting in a small room made of this blank gray substance. One walls was transparent, revealing a hall outside made of the same material and… Was that another room?

Tentatively looking around the room, I saw that my little room had another inhabitant.

Marethyu was sprawled out on the floor beside me, sparks sluggishly crawling around on his hook.

"Marethyu?" I whispered softly, trying not to make my headache worse. "Wake up, dude. It isn't the best time for sleeping." I added, shaking his shoulder.

He jolted awake, dots of light rippling up from his hook as he used his sole hand to push himself upright. "Where…" He rasped, then cleared his voice and tried again. "Where are we? Do you know?"

I grasped Marethyu's shoulder and helped him sit up. "I'm afraid not. All I remember is that I was glowing, and then there was this weird twisting feeling, and then black… Kind of like what you feel when you go through a leygate, but stronger."

Marethyu shook his head slowly. "Let me think… We need to find out exactly where we are before I can figure anything out."

A hammering sound interrupted him, and my head shot up.

I could see Palamedes' bald head through the clear… Whatever it was, and he was hammering on the substance with his fist.

I rushed over to the substance. "Palamedes! How are you? Is anybody else with you?"

Palamedes nodded, apparently able to hear me through the pane. Shakespeare's head popped up beside him, followed by Aoife's. I breathed a sigh of relief. They, at least, were fine.

Marethyu joined me by the pane. "I don't see why our… Jailer, whoever he is, would think that this could keep us here…" Reaching out, he gently touched his hook to the pane.

Nothing happened.

I frowned, then snapped my fingers, trying to make a flame appear on my index finger.

Nothing happened.

"Something must be draining our auras," Aoife said, and I started when I realized that I could hear her voice perfectly.

Marethyu nodded. "Indeed. Although I thought that my hook would have an effect…"

A third voice spoke out from behind us.

"Who are you?"

I cursed internally. _Damn. How could I not have noticed that there was someone else!?_

Bracing myself, I turned slowly, to see a perfectly ordinary-looking woman, with curly black hair tumbling past her shoulders and intelligent hazel eyes. She was regarding Marethyu and I with a look of, if not fear, then certainly suspicion and wariness.

"I could say the same thing for you." I replied coldly, not taking any chances.

She hugged her knees. "Madeleine. Madeleine de Verchères." She muttered, with a pronounced French accent.

I jolted. "Madeleine de Verchères!? _La Française qui a défendu un fort français au Canada contre l'Iroquois, tout seul!? » _I replied excitedly.

**((A/N Translation : The Frenchwoman that defended a French fort in Canada against the Iroquois, single-handedly!?))**

Madeleine lifted her head. "_You know of me?" _She answered, speaking in the same language.

I laughed, reverting back to English. "How could I not!? You're famous in France and Canada!"

She frowned. "Really? Hm." She paused. "So, who are you two?"

I smiled reassuringly. "I am le Comte de Saint-Germain, and my friend here is called Marethyu."

"Called, but not named." Madeleine stated blankly.

"If you would excuse me, I would like to keep my birth name a secret." Marethyu interjected quietly.

Madeleine frowned, looking doubtful, but her face cleared and faced us both directly. "And why are you here? Is he your master too, or are you just… Visiting, I suppose?"

A terrible feeling grew in my gut. "Who's… Who's he?" I managed to get out.

"His name is Tartarus…" She whispered, cowering slightly. "If he is your master… You should pray."

At that moment, a dark shadow swept across the small room and I turned slowly, only to see a face that had long existed in my nightmares facing me.

"An Earthlord!" Marethyu gasped.

"Speak of the devil… Literally…" I muttered.

* * *

**Annnddd there we have it! A shorter chapter, but a shorter wait! Yaaaaaay~**

**And le gasp! It's Tartarus! Who could have seen this coming? It's so not-obvious that only the geniuses could have figured it out!**

**Heh**

**Sorry, my sarcastic bone is running rampant again…**

**Aaaannyyywaayyss…. Please favourite and drop me a review, tell me how I'm doing!**

**Thank you all for your awesomeness.**

**Wuvs!~**


	16. Chapter 16- Day 3 Part 3

(Saint-Germain's POV)

Tartarus' face glared at me for a moment, yellow eyes glittering in a snakelike snout, curved horns curling out of his skull and twisting so that they pointed forward, parallel with his lower jaw. In a strange, high-pitched voice, which had a counterpoint that sounded like a rockslide, the Earthlord said, "So. These are the humani pests that have been planning to kill me."

Madeleine shot me an astonished glance, but I ignored her and faced Tartarus directly, doing my best to ignore the fear that was roiling in my gut. "Yes. We are."

He stared at me a moment longer. "Foolish bravery will get you nowhere, Francis."

Tartarus shifted his gaze to Marethyu. "And Marethyu, although you were known by a different name when you ruled the Earthlords and yet another when you killed two of my brethren, the last two on the wretched Shadowrealm that you call Earth. It seems that our paths have crossed."

He stared into our cell for a few seconds later, his intense yellow gaze boring into me, before twisting his head and faced the cell across from ours, the one housing Palamedes, Shakespeare, and Aoife. Although I could hear his voice perfectly a few moments before, and I could hear Palamedes earlier, when he faced away, his voice sounded like a tinny, faint buzzing.

A few moments later, the massive creature took a few steps forward, his black, scaly hide sliding past the pane that kept us in.

Madeleine stared at me. "You were going to kill him?" She whispered in an awed voice. "Why? And how?"

Marethyu shuffled over to join us. I smiled when I realized that a small, tight alliance was beginning to form between our little group. "Your master," He began "Plans to destroy Earth with a single blow, and use its remains to create a new, better race of Earthlords."

Between us, Marethyu and I managed to explain what we understood of Tartarus' plan, and everything we knew about the mysterious Nations.

She interrupted, "So, you're saying that… There are these living personifications of countries that exist on Earth?"

I nodded. "Yeah. They act like normal people, most of the time, but some of them are just… Weird. They all have really exaggerated personalities, almost, and they all have the most powerful auras that we've ever seen."

Her eyes brightened for a moment, then dimmed. "That's amazing, but… They probably all got took by Tartarus, too. He was preparing for ages to create a kind of leygate that would take you all here, he mentioned it once or twice during training."

I paused. "Maybe not, I haven't seen any here… But, then again, there would be no way to check."

"Yes there is."

"…Wha?"

Madeleine got up, walked over to the wall on the left, and tapped it with a forefinger, sparks of a pale purple aura coiling around her hand. The entire wall blinked to black, then shimmered and became transparent.

There was a group of very surprised Immortals on the other side.

"Saint-Germain!" Romania exclaimed with a shocked expression on his face. Madeleine cast me a satisfied glance and said, "They react to auras. All you need to do is give it a spark of energy, and the walls will become transparent or opaque, whichever you want."

I grabbed her hand. "Thank you so much," I said gratefully, then hurried over to Romania.

"Romania! How are you?" I asked. Norway and Machiavelli, the other two inhabitants of the cell, joined him by the wall. Marethyu and Madeleine rushed over on my side.

Romania blinked. "I am doing as well as could be expected, judging by the circumstances. And, I must ask, who is the lady with you?"

Madeleine bowed her head. "My name is Madeleine. Madeleine de Verchères. It is a pleasure to meet one of the Nations. I have heard much of you."

A faint tinge of pink touched Romania's cheeks. "Um… Thank you…"

Machiavelli leaned forward. "It is good to see you again. I'm Niccolo Machiavelli, by the way," He added to Madeleine. "But, I have to say, I'm concerned about the rest of our friends. Who can you see from where you are?"

"Palamedes, Shakespeare, and Aoife are in the cell across from us. You?"

"Telemann, Billy, and Virginia."

I sighed in relief. "Good. There's a chance that Joan isn't here with us. I'm going to make the other wall in our cell transparent, you try it too. Just give it a bit of your aura."

The Italian nodded and we both got up and headed away from each other, to our cell's walls.

I pressed a finger gently against it, and while my red aura shimmered, something came to mind.

"Hey, Madeleine," I called. "How come our auras work for this, but when I tried to use it earlier, it didn't work?"

Marethyu nodded. "I noticed that too."

"You're in Tartarus' Shadowrealm," Madeleine explained, "And the entire building that we're in is designed to draw from the aura of everybody in it, including Tartarus. The walls themselves have a spark of his energy, so you just need to activate it and his own aura does the rest."

"Francis!" Scathach's startled voice cried. "How… What…?"

* * *

For the next fifteen minutes or so, there were many joyous reunions and even more confusion as we made all the walls of our cell transparent and showed everybody else how to. Soon, we were all able to speak clearly, and, at the direction of Madeleine, we were able to use the cell walls to speak to people at the other end of the cell block.

As I had hoped, Joan wasn't there, but neither were the Nations, aside from Norway and Romania.

"Why do you think that nobody else is here with us?" I asked Romania, lounging against the clear wall.

"Well… It could simply be that so many Nation's auras, together in one place, were enough to resist Tartarus' leygate. I doubt that he would be able to overpower only Antarctica, Portugal, and England, let alone the rest of them."

I nodded. "Makes sense. Those three seem to be the most powerful, or if not that, most practiced Nations. And then there's England, with the black aura…"

Madeleine walked over to join us. "Um…"

I turned my head to face her. "Yes? What is it?"

She ducked her head, almost like she was embarrassed. "Can you… Um… Can you please tell me about the world? How it is today? I haven't been outside of Tartarus' Shadowrealm ever since he first took me here… He tells me that it has much changed, but that is all."

My eyes widened. "How long ago did he take you?"

"I was twenty three when he made me immortal, and took me, and made a Thoughtform to stand in for the rest of my mortal life on Earth."

My eyes enlarged themselves even more as I quickly did the math in my head. "That means… Over three centuries have passed since you were on Earth!?"

She nodded. "Yes. Time here passes at the same rate as on Earth, so, yes. 312 years, to be exact."

My heart twinged in sympathy. "In that case… I will tell you everything I know, about how it is today."

"And I will help," Romania added. "I've existed for much longer than you have, in a different part of the world, so I can help with the past as well."

Madeleine's eyes shone. "Thank you," She breathed.

I chuckled. "My pleasure. Now, at the moment, I'm a famous rock star, known as Germain!"

"..What's a rock star?"

"…There is much you need to learn, my young Padawan."

"And what the heck is a Padawan!?"

"…"

* * *

(Joan's POV)

The Nations and I stood in a ring around the dining room table, and I was explaining my idea to them.

"Well, as you know, we all need to create a ward around the house, so that nobody can spy on us again. England, Antarctica, Portugal, do you have a bit of experience with that?"

They nodded.

"Good. You can help me organize the rest of the Nations, then. But, before that, we'll need to talk to a ghost. A pair of them, actually."

America immediately freaked out. "Ohmigod a freaking ghost that's so scary why do you need to do that are you trying to give me a heart attack or something because I swear that I'll get one if I actually see one that isn't in a movie and gahh!"

"Shush," I snapped. "These certain ghosts are friendly. I knew them very well while they were alive, and I would trust them with our lives. They've actually come to visit me after they died, so, please, bear with me."

America subsided slightly. "That's still scary, but… Why do you need to call them anyways? I don't get that…"

He nervously readjusted his glasses.

I smiled. "During their lives, they have spent many centuries traveling through Shadowrealms. Since they never stayed in one place for too long, always being pursued, they have the ability to travel across and through the worlds. I was thinking that they could be a way of communication between us and the others."

America finally calmed down fully. "Oh… Okay… If you say so. Who are these ghosts, anyways?"

My grin was devilish.

"Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, the Alchemyst and the Sorceress, the second-to-last guardians of the Codex. They had lived on the Earth for nearly seven hundred years, and they have guarded and trained the twins of legend, gold and silver, Marethyu and Sophie. They're really quite accomplished."

France grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Really? They were immortal!? I met them once, in their first bookstore. They 'ad no idea who I was, of course, but really… That's amazing!"

My grin matched his. "Yes, they were really quite amazing… I knew them for a very long time, and they only died recently, after they helped to stop an invasion of horrific monsters into San Franciso. So many friends died that day… Black Hawk, Odin, Hel, Mars Ultor, Prometheus, nearly Billy and Machiavelli… And I, of course, was ten thousand years in the past, defending the Pyramid of the Sun on Danu Talis from hordes of beasts."

The table was silent.

"Oh, lighten up! It wasn't _that _special… Well, maybe it kind of was, but… Can we just call Nick and Perry already!?" I snapped, blushing. _Oh, God… Why do I dig myself into these holes?_

England was the first to nod. "Very well then. How do you suggest that we do it?"

I smiled gratefully. "Last time I saw them, they said that they would be exploring in Tir na nOg, so… We're going to need a lot of aura to call them back. Could everybody join hands, please? We need to be able to concentrate our power."

With some grumbling, the Nations moved to acquiesce. America took Antarctica's hand, who grabbed on to Portugal, who reached out for China, who closed his hand around Japan's… Soon, we had a stubborn, grumbling, belligerent shape that looking more like a blob than a circle, but it would work.

"…Right."

I closed my eyes and began to concentrate, when I was interrupted.

"Frog."

"Black sheep of Europe."

My eyes shot open and I glared at England and France. "No interruptions, please." I hissed, then closed my eyes again.

"Everybody, activate your auras, please."

As they obeyed, the air filling with a mix of strange and strong scents, I gasped as a rush of power flowed into me. _So much power… How can they stand it? _Taking the energy they had volunteered, I gathered my strength and sent out a mental shout, reaching for their familiar feel. _Nicholas! Perenelle! Come here! I need your help!_

(Omniscient POV)

Nicholas and Perenelle were floating above the stunning Shadowrealm of Tir na nOg, hand in hand, staring out over a vast sea.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it…" Perenelle whispered.

"Everything seems to be more beautiful when you're a hundred feet in the air," Her husband reminded her, grinning, and pecked her on the check. _But, she has a point… _Nicholas mused as he turned his gaze back to the twin suns, which were setting over the horizon.

"You know, we really should have spent more time here when we first came," Perenelle said, smiling softly.

"Yes, we should have," Nicholas agreed, his ethereal eyes roaming over the waves, made tiny with distance.

At that moment, this _other _presence touched their minds. Perenelle's mouth contorted as what felt like many extremely powerful auras flooded into her mind. _What are those… Elders!? _

_Nicholas! Perenelle! Come here! I need your help!_

Nicholas gasped. "That's… That's Joan!" He exclaimed.

Perenelle nodded as the many auras faded from her mind. "But… Who are all those other people? They're all so… So powerful! They can't be Elders, because they would never work together like that… And they aren't Sophie and Marethyu, it's… It's too powerful! How is this possible!?"

Nicholas shook his head. "I don't know… But, whoever they are, we need to go. Joan needs out help."

Perenelle nodded, and slowly, they faded away, to answer Joan's call.

(Joan's POV)

I quickly yanked my hands out of the Nation's grasp, their power immediately fading away. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees, not out of exhaustion but from the rush of energy that I had felt.

"There," I gasped. "That should do it. They'll be arriving within the minute."

France came to my side, a concerned expression on his face, and guided me over to a chair. "Joan? What is it? Are you tired?"

I smiled wanly. "No, I'm not tired, it's just… How can you deal with the strength that you have in your auras? Mine is silver, so I have one of the most powerful types, for humans, but even that pales into comparison to what you have, France."

He frowned and sat down beside me. "Well… Most of the time I don't feel it, really. I always 'ave a lot to deal with, being in charge of an entire country and all of its people. I think that… Before it was Awakened, I just felt it as the weight of responsibility on my shoulders, but I've dealt with it for over a millennium, so… It's hard to describe. I'm used to it, I suppose. I only really feel the power when I actually use it."

"That must be so hard, having to take care of so much for over a thousand years…" I whispered, my gut twisting at the thought.

He smiled cheerily. "It's fairly easy, actually. I've never known anything else. China 'as it 'ardest, though, being the oldest."

On an impulse, I turned and hugged him tightly around the shoulders. I could feel him stiffen, but then he relaxed and hugged back gently.

"But… Spending a millennium alone. That had to have been hard. I had a horrible time with five centuries before I met Francis."

"I wasn't always alone. There were…" He coughed awkwardly. "A few relationships over the years, but they never lasted long, only a year or so at most. Couldn't 'ave them knowing that I was a Nation, eh? But I didn't 'ave one for many years after you, um, died. I was… Sad… At the time."

I blushed and released him.

"Everyone! Something's happening!" Portugal called, staring at the space above the table., where the air was glittering and seemed to be… _Twisting_, almost.

And, in the next moment, the translucent forms of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel appeared.

(Perenelle's POV)

All was black, and then… Perenelle and Nicholas blinked to existence in what looked like… A dining room.

Perenelle stared. They were surrounded by people that looked fairly normal, but they were all surrounded by powerful auras with gold and silver streaks in them.

There were two men with odd curls on opposite sides of their hair, similar enough to be brothers. Amber auras, one darker than the other, blinked in and out of view.

There was another pair, one with slicked-back blonde hair and another who seemed to be an albino with matching gray auras.

There was what looked like a teenager with a red aura, seemingly freaked out by the pair of ghosts and was being comforted by a tall girl with a silvery blue light around her.

Joan was sitting next to a man with long blonde hair and a light blue aura that Perenelle recognized from somewhere, but she wasn't sure where…

There was a short Japanese man with longish black hair and a navy aura, sitting beside with a person with a ponytail and a forest green light, with a girl with a red-gold aura standing next to him protectively.

Someone who seemed to be almost fading in and out of view was standing shyly in the corner, a faint vivid green light around him.

A tall ginger with an olive-green aura was sitting next to the final person that Perenelle laid her eyes on.

A short, skinny man with messy blonde hair, vibrant green eyes, and huge eyebrows eyebrows. He was one of the least frightening people that Perenelle had ever seen, until she saw his aura.

A black light was pulsing darkly around him, and Perenelle could almost taste the power in the air. There seemed to be a vast reserve of energy in him, far too much for any human to bear, and when she checked the rest of the… _Well, I'm not sure that I should call them _people_… Beings, maybe?_

When she checked the rest of the beings, all of them seemed to be the same, with enormous pools of strength barely held in reserve.

"Joan… Who are these people?" Nicholas asked hoarsely from beside her.

Joan got up and smiled brightly at them. "They're my friends, every single one of them."

Pointing at the man with the curl on the right side of his head, she said, "That's North Italy, or Italy Veneziano, and the person next to him is South Italy, or Romano. Then we have Germany, Prussia, America, Antarctica, France, Japan, China, Portugal, Canada, Scotland, and last but definitely not least, England." She finished, pointing at the one with the black aura.

"They're all Nation Spirits, or Nations for short. Every single one of them is the living personification of their respective country."

(Joan's POV)

I smiled at their flabbergasted faces. "And you can trust them. They're the most loyal people that I know. And I need both their, and your, help."

In the next few minutes, I explained what had happened and what we had discovered to the ghostly pair, with the help of the Nations.

"So… Tartarus has taken the immortals that were helping, plus Norway and Romania, and you need us to help relay information back and forth."

I nodded. "Will you do it?" I asked anxiously.

Nicholas smiled. "Of course! It would be a cinch to trace their auras across the Shadowrealms, we've done much harder feats since we died."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you… That really takes a weight off my shoulders…"

Perenelle patted me on the shoulder with her ghostly hand. "We would do anything to help, Joan. You're like a daughter to us."

Gratefully, I said, "Thank you again for helping. The Nations and I will stay here, begin training in earnest for the battle with Tartarus."

"And we'll stay in contact with both you and the immortals." The Flamels said.

_Let's do this._

* * *

**So, to those who don't know, Perenelle and Nick **_**did **_**die at the very end of the Enchantress, when Marethyu took them to Paris. And, you know, I just really wanted to include them :3**

**So, thank you to my reviewers! PaintingMornings and IOU1882, that goes withour saying, and also to Ola the mysterious guest.**

**And, yes, I know that my Portugese is horrible, but… I used Google Translate for all the foreign languages except for English and French, because I speak both, and, well, we all know how much Google can mess things up…**

**Anyways, you know the drill! Drop me a review, tell me how I'm doing, and if you like it, a favourite and follow would be very much in order!**

**Wuvs~**


	17. Chapter 17- Day 3 Part 4

(Joan's POV)

Once Nicholas and Perenelle had left on their cross-Shadowrealm trek, Joan began organizing the Nations into groups.

"Right. For today, we'll be fighting two against two in teams. I'll try to put a fairly balanced, even mix on each side. As in, the older ones with the younger ones, the more practiced with the less, and each against their opposite. I figure that it would be the best way to get an even reckoning of our abilities and weaknesses. Sounds good?"

There were a few grumbles and complaints, but eventually, everyone agreed. Joan smirked as she gazed out over them. _Imagine… Just a couple of days ago, they would have been at each other's throats, but now they're actually listening to what I say. Amazing._

Joan let her eyes wander, trying to decide who would be best with who. _Maybe England and America…? Actually, no. I may as well be a bit of a matchmaker when I make the pairings._

Her mind made up, Joan clapped her hands together sharply, causing several Nations to jump.

"Right then! On one team, we'll have Antarctica and America fighting against China and Portugal."

Germany and Romano gave her suspicious glances, as if they knew what she was trying to do, but the Nations she had named seemed happy enough and moved together into a little cluster.

"Then, we'll have, um, Prussia and Germany with Romano and Italy. Then, France, Scotland, and I will be with Canada, Japan, and, um, England too. That should be all. Sounds good?"

Germany and Romano began to glare at her outright, but Prussia cackled evilly and grabbed his little brother's arm. "Come on, Vest! It'll be fun! You can fight your little lover!"

Germany blushed heavily, and, in his surprise, let himself be dragged out by his brother. "He… He's not my little lover…"

Italy, seemingly oblivious, laughed and tugged on Romano. "Ve!~ Fratello! Come-a on!"

"Pasta _bastardo…_" Romano grumbled as he was pulled away.

France popped up beside Joan. "Jeanne… Are you sure that it's a good idea to be fighting against Angleterre?" He asked worriedly.

She frowned. "No. Not at all. But we have to include him, I'm fairly experienced, and he has a weakness somewhere. We just have to find it. Right?" She said with false confidence.

France gave her a doubtful look. "If you say so…."

Joan tried a smile. "I do say so. Let's do this!"

Several minutes later, the Nations and Joan were gathered on France's back lawn. Everybody except for Joan, England, Antarctica, and Portugal were in a small huddle by the back door.

Arranging themselves so that they could see everybody at the same, the three Nations and Joan stood in a small circle, right hand on the next person's left shoulder so that they formed a small chain.

"You're sure that you have experience with creating wards?" Joan asked quietly.

England smiled. "Of course. This certain one will hide the house from detection to everyone who has malicious intent, but nobody else. And, if they try to approach it, their minds will be guided away so that they will see no reason to, and leave."

Joan grinned. "Sounds good."

As one, they closed their eyes and focused.

Portugal was the first to speak. "By wards of Fire, all evil that enters shall burn." A tendril of Fire wove off her right hand and coiled around the four, until it formed a complete circle.

Antarctica said, "By wards of Ice, all evil that harms shall freeze." Frost trailed along their skin.

Portugal spoke again. "By wards of Earth, all evil that sees shall be blocked." Vines sprouted from her fingers and wrapped around the glowing circle of ice and fire.

"By wards of Air, all evil that approaches shall be deterred." Mist curled along the circle.

England spoke. "By wards of the Mind, all evil that wants shall want no more." His aura twisted around the unbroken circle, humming with energy.

Joan opened her eyes. "And by the strength of our minds and souls, these five powers shall unite and protect." She whispered, her silver aura flowing out of her fingers and into the ring. Slowly, the fire, ice, mist, vines, and aura fused together, forming a single circle of multifaceted light. It shimmered, then glowed as bright as a star for a moment. Joan closed her eyes again against the brightness. When she reopened them, the ring was gone and there was a faint shimmering in the sky above them.

Portugal giggled. "That was fun! I've never tried a ward like that before, I've only heard of it in theory."

Joan allowed herself a smile. "I've done auric wards once or twice before, but never like that one. I only knew the last words, which have to be said with every one, I suppose."

England nodded. "Yes, I've noticed that too. It was quite interesting. I've actually never done this before…" He blushed.

Antarctica grinned ruefully. "Me neither. I've just heard of it and memorized the wording, like everyone else…"

Joan paled. "You've never made a ward before." She stated flatly.

"No, no! We've made wards before, just not this certain one," England reassured her hurriedly.

Joan shook her head. "You could have told me that before… Anyways, we had better get started. We don't want to waste too much time." And, without another word, she turned away from the little circle and headed back up the lawn to where the Nations were waiting.

_Nations. I swear, they'll drive me insane one day._

A more sobering thought struck her. _If we survive the battle._

A few minutes later, the Immortals were spread out widely over the vast backyard, eyeing their opponents intensely, daring the other team to make the first move. Joan had drawn her broadsword and was standing motionlessly, her silver armour moulded over her body, her knees bent. France was standing straight and tall beside her, holding his rapier in one hand, the tip near the ground. Scotland was glaring openly at not just their opponents, but everyone, a long dagger in each hand.

Ten meters away, Japan and Canada were standing a meter away from each other, Canada holding a hockey stick tightly in both hands and Japan looking more relaxed, his katana gripped loosely. A little ways behind and between them, England was standing, his aura beginning to curl around him, holding a thick book in one hand. Joan raised her voice.

"Alright, everybody ready?" She called out.

There were a few tense affirmatives.

_Good enough._

"Begin!"

* * *

(Antarctica's POV)

America immediately began to rush forward to China and Portugal, but I held him back with one hand, anticipating his movement.

"Wait," I hissed. "Let them come to us."

He gave me a surprised glance, but obeyed. Across from us, China smirked and began to advance slowly. I gripped my weapon, a wooden staff with a blade at either end, and watched his movements carefully. America, being serious for once, bent his knees, his elbows tucked in, and glared at Portugal.

China paused, watched us a moment longer, then suddenly leaped high into the air, body twisting into a kick. America tensed, but I whispered. "Wait for it."

China began to plummet down, one of his legs extended and heel pointing out. At the very moment when he couldn't draw back, when he was no more than two meters above my head, I shouted "Move!" And rolled to my right.

China landed heavily and spun around, but I was already there. I spun my staff and hit him in the back of the leg. He crumpled, but swept out his other leg in a spinning kick, his aura twisting around his flesh. I tripped up and fell to the ground. His aura was curling and solidifying around my leg, making it impossible to move or feel that certain section.

I snapped out a hand and a whirling gale gusted past, picking China up and throwing him away a good ten meters. Taking a moment to check on America, who was dueling Portugal, him with his fists and her with her fire, I picked myself up, putting my weight on my good leg, and advanced on China.

He saw me coming and twisted to his feet, then leaped towards me, his hand extended in a fist. I barely dodged and swung my staff at him, doing my best not to cut off any limbs, but he avoided it easily and countered with a roundhouse kick.

I ducked under it and swung a hand up, catching on to his foot and throwing him to the ground.

_This has to stop. We're fighting as teams, not as singles. That means that we need to work as a team._

"America!" I yelled. He glanced at me for a moment, the returned his attention to Portugal, who had a nimbus of fire roiling around her. Heavy, thick roots burst from the ground and trapped him by the ankle, tripping him and making the Nation fall.

I swiftly spun around, froze China's palms and heels to the ground, then ran over to America.

Portugal growled when she saw me, her irises solid red, but I ignored her and froze the roots completely solid, allowing America to shatter them easily.

"We have to do this together! Work as a team!" I shouted, joining. He nodded, eyes flicking to mine, and together we advanced on Portugal.

Her eyes widened, gaze flitting back and forth between us, but then her eyes focused on something behind us and a tendril of flame slipped between our shoulders.

We stopped.

"She just freed China, didn't she?"

"Yup."

On an unspoken command, America twisted around to face China while I glared at Portugal, shards of ice swirling around me as a tornado began to form. Frost curled along my arms and legs, my entire body, and slowly thickened until it was like I was a creature made of living ice.

At the exact same moment, America and I struck, and it was like we were one entity, ducking around each other's strikes, weaving and punching past shoulders, entire battle plans conveyed in a single glance.

_I haven't fought with or against anybody on my level in ages just for training, or for fun…_

_God, I missed it._

Slowly, my limbs began to tire and every dodge was slower and more sloppy than the one before as sweat rolled down my brow. The others were feeling the same as well, although America was faring the best.

Panting, I slipped under a kick and laid my frozen fist into China's gut, catapulting him back. He thumped heavily against the ground, skidded, and hit his head on a rock. The light immediately left his eyes.

When she saw that, Portugal screamed, her aura flaring to renewed brightness with anger. Her fires melted my ice and burned away the air in my miniature tornado, so I quickly gave them up. She advanced, her eyes a bloodred with gold streaks swirling in it, a murderous expression on her face.

_Oh crap. She's lost control._

I had seen someone loose control of their aura only once before, when England was fighting a Northern Akhlut in Siberia, in the early 1900s.

He had caused an explosion 1000 times more powerful than the Hiroshima bomb and had decimated an area of 2150 square kilometers.

"We have to end this now!" I hissed to America. "She'll kill everybody here if we don't stop her."

America gave me a scared glance. "Really?"

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. Now, focus! Use your essence!"

"But… I don't know how!"

"Yes, you do! Imagine the whole of America, the plains and Rockies and those annoying little islands. That's your homeland. Take its energy and use it, for God's sake! We don't have much time!"

He closed his eyes and concentrated. I slowly backed us away, calling my country's essence at the same time.

"Nothing's happening!" He yelled.

I slapped him hard across the cheek, staring into his blue eyes. "DO IT!"

His aura blazed to golden incandescence, and I did the same with mine, quickly calling up the land's force of Antarctica..

"Put her fires out! I'll stop her from moving, calm her down!"

His eyes a solid gold, he lifted his hand and a wave of pine-scented, icy cold power washed out from him. The moment it touched the heat of Portugal's flames, it wrapped around them and smothered them with its cool touch.

I sent a flood of water rippling out through the air, letting it coat Portugal's body, and froze it solid with a single gesture. Her mouth contorting into a snarl, her eyes rolling wildly under the layer of ice, the Nation tried to free herself, but to no avail.

"Get China," I hissed. "That will help."

Kneeling beside my best friend, I began talking to her quickly but soothingly. "It's okay, it's okay, you don't need to kill everybody here. As in, please don't kill us, it isn't exactly the best way to solve your problems. China is fine, China is alive, he isn't hurt. He is fine. Everything will be fine."

China joined us, his movements careful but his eyes clear. When Portugal saw him, her eyes snapped back to their usual amber and she stopped moving, her gaze focused on his.

"See? I'm okay?" China whispered, and I let the ice evaporate. She smiled a little and stood up carefully, then hugged China.

"Sorry, guys." She mumbled. "I just got a little bit annoyed."

America and I stood back, watching the two.

I commented "Well… That was a bit more dramatic than I had expected."

* * *

(Romano's POV)

The moment that Joan yelled 'Begin', Veneziano and I leapt for the pair of potato bastards, who neatly dodged our attacks.

"Veneziano…" I hissed. "If you know-a _anything at all _about-a fighting, now is the time."

He grinned at me cheerily and pulled a pair of handguns out of his back pockets, the barrels sparkling amber. "Of course-a I do! I just don't-a like fighting, but if I-a need to, I can kill everybody in my way!~" He said, his eyes closed in sheer joy.

I shuddered, then pulled a semi-automatic rifle from my holster.

_He scares-a me sometimes…_

"Good." I replied brusquely. "Just… Try not to-a kill anyone, please. Even though I hate the potato bastards, we still need-a them for the fight."

"Oh… Okay!~"

I shuddered again and turned to face the potato bastards who had backed away until they were at least ten meters away from us.

"Hey! You about done yet?" The albino yelled, smirking.

I hefted my gun, feeling its weight on my shoulder.

"You bet, potato bastards!"

He lifted a pistol and I quickly dove to the side, hearing the bullet crash into the ground where I was standing only milleseconds before. In retaliation, I let out a wide spray from my gun, and while they were crouched to dodge, Veneziano fired a shot from each of his handguns, a warning shot, directly into the ground in front of them. The potatoes scrambled back, and I think that they were just as startled as I was.

_When did fratellino get so good!?_

_Enough thinking. I want this to be over with quickly._

Focusing my aura, I charged the bullets in the clip with an explosive force, so that even if I missed, the explosions would be enough to drive them back.

The blonde potato took the opportunity, yanked a grenade from nowhere, and threw it directly at Veneziano and I. I saw it whirl through the air, the clip leaving a conspicuous hole in my vision. I was stunned. Did they really want to kill me?

Before I could do anything, North came into my view and threw up a glowing amber barrier around both of us. A moment later, the grenade exploded, and I blinked from shock.

"Be more-a careful, fratello," He breathed before lifting the wall.

_That's not-a fair! _I _should be-a the one doing the protecting! He's my-a little brother, and not-a the other way around!_

Taking that into mind, I leaped forward angrily, my gun spewing bullets that the potatoes barely had time to dodge, hoping for an opportunity to protect my fratellino.

The chance came sooner than I had expected. North and I had separated, him dueling with the albino and I with blondie.

I was fighting by hand, since it was too close for either of us to use our guns. And damn, he was strong! I mean, I was pretty strong myself, but I had to be careful with every punch that he threw, because only one could knock me out.

I was completely focused on the duel, when a gunshot rang out and I twisted, startled, dropping to my knees to avoid a punch.

The albino bastard was using a gun! Veneziano and him were fighting in far too close for that; a bullet would go straight through his armour.

"Bastard," I hissed, grabbing for my machine gun.

It wasn't there.

I looked up, shocked, and the blondie was holding it in a hand, smirking.

"Looking for zhis?" He asked.

"Now is not-a the time! Look!" I snapped.

The albino had kicked down Veneziano and was raising a gun, pointing it at his chest.

_Doesn't he realize that fratellino will be killed if he does-a that!? _

There was no time to think. I flung my hand out and a lance of dark amber light rushed from my hand, hitting the albino's gun in moments and causing the gunpowder inside to explode in his face, leaving behind a very startled, sooty Prussian.

I jumped to my feet and raced over, the blondie close behind.

Grabbing my brother's arm, I hauled him to his feet and quickly checked him over for injuries.

_He isn't hurt. Thank god._

"Fratello? Are you-a worried?" He asked confusedly, tilting his head.

"Of course-a not!" I snapped, a blush warming my cheeks.

Spinning on my heel, I marched over to where the albino was being scolded by the blondie.

I shoved the blondie aside and stabbed my finger into the other potato bastard's chest.

"Listen, _bastardo." _I hissed. "Are you-a really too stupid to-a realize that you would have-a _killed _my brother at that range!?"

"But… Nations can't be killed." He reminded me.

I brought my face close to his. "I'm not going to-a take that chance! And even if he wasn't, he would have been hurt-a badly, you idiot! I don't want-a my little brother to be hurt! If you ever try to do-a something like-a that again, I'll kill you, whether it's-a possible or not."

He paled even more than usual. I turned and stalked away, an angry flush creeping up my cheeks.

_Bastards, _I thought furiously.

Then: _At-a least I protected _mio fratellino.

**(A/N Daaaaw :'3)**

* * *

(England's POV)

My grip tightened on my grimoire, the book where I kept my most powerful spells. Predictably, Scotland went directly for me, while France engaged Japan in sword-to-sword combat and Joan with her broadsword began a furious onslaught against Canada.

_How does she carry such a heavy sword like it's nothing? _I wondered, then snapped back to reality when I saw Scotland getting closer, a furious expression in his eyes.

_Time to get to business._

On an unspoken command, the grimoire flipped open to a page detailing the destructive forces of the world. Letting it float in midair, I shouted the first word of power that I saw. "Ignis aeri!" _Sky fire._

A small, dense cloud appeared directly above, and then it began to rain. Not water, like an ordinary cloud, but magma. Focusing, I concentrated the cloud until it was directly over Scotland, whose armour immediately formed over his body. The magma dissipated harmlessly on it, and I staggered as energy was drained out of me.

_Not good. No more weather spells. Too dry for clouds._

The grimoire closed and opened again to a new page, the one on changing molecular states. I braced myself for the loss and shouted "Skipta lopt vio svell!" _Change air to ice._

Immediately, a thick layer of solid ice appeared around Scotland, created from the air that had been touching him. He growled, but to no avail. Scotland was trapped. Creating a small hole in the front so that he could breathe, I smirked and moved on to Joan.

She had chopped Canada's stick in half with a few well-aimed blows and was holding her broadsword at his throat.

Canada scowled, and, with a swift motion, touched his finger to the blade. It immediately catapulted away to land heavily on the ground a ways away. Joan grinned and stepped back.

"I taught you too well."

Canada grinned back. "Thanks. Truce for now?"

"Sure."

I smirked and stepped into Joan's field of vision.

"Joan. Care to give me this duel?" I asked, my view clouded with black.

She grinned, although I could see a touch of fear in her face, and went to pick up her broadsword. "Sure."

Settling into a fighting stance, her sword held in both hands, her gray eyes fixed directly on mine, the small woman looked intense and focused.

I was impressed.

We stood there for a few moments, completely silent. Gradually, the sounds around us faded as Nations won or lost their duels, and turned their attention to us.

I held out my left hand, my grimoire hovering above it, and let the book choose the spell.

_Earth and tectonic spells. Perfect._

"Rozdělit zemi!" _Split the earth. _I yelled, and the ground cracked open into a crevasse that raced towards her.

Her eyes widened fractionally, but she did nothing to react except send a tendril of silver down into the still-widening crack. It did nothing, except for coating it thoroughly in silver aura, making it shiny and reflective.

_Like a mirror._

The next moment, the sunlight stuck the inside of the crevasse and rebounded, growing stronger and stronger, until it escaped right by my face, blinding me from the radiance.

_Clever. She's clever, _I realized, and then the sound of whistling informed my that her broadsword was on a collision course for my face.

With barely enough time, I threw up a shield and her sword screamed off it, sending up a spray of sparks.

The next moment, the sunlight disappeared and I blinked, again blinded, but from the lack of light.

Her sword crashed into the shield again, and for a third time, every blow drawing on my energy.

_She's weakening me, _I realized. _I may be stronger than her, but if she lowers my energy enough, we'll be on an equal playing field._

(Joan's POV)

As I swung heavily at England's shield again and again, I took the moment to glance around at the Nations. All of them had finished their duels and were waiting, watching England and I. France stood to the side, a proud little smile on his face. He was the one who had taught me the trick of using mirrors to blind opponents. Turning my attention back to England, it looked like his shield was thinning, becoming more insubstantial.

_Good. I'm weakening him._

I raised my sword for one last blow…

(England's POV)

…And I let my shield shatter just before she hit it, jumping away and letting her sword bury itself in the ground.

_You want to be smart? Two can play at that game._

My aura coiling around my hands, I clapped them together and a shockwave of sound blasted out, slamming into Joan and knocking her back a few paces. She blinked, disoriented, tried to walk, and stumbled. As I had hoped, the sound had temporarily damaged the inner structures of her ear, making it much harder for her to balance. _Let's work with that._

Staying on the tectonic page, I traced my finger down the line and shouted, "Tarakounísei ti gie!" _Shake the earth._

The ground directly under her feet trembled, and Joan fell to her knees. I strode up and held my hand at her throat, fingers sparkling with black light.

"Do you concede?" I asked her quietly.

It took her a moment to look back up.

(Joan's POV)

I glared up at him, my ears still ringing and everything looking like it was spinning wildly.

Finally, I growled, "Fine. You win."

England stepped back, a tiny smile on his face, and helped me up. Placing a hand to each of my ears, I felt an odd tingling, and then my hearing and balance were restored to normal.

"That was very clever, Joan." He said quietly. "I'm impressed."

I smiled up at him. "Thanks. That sound trick wasn't too shabby either."

He grinned, clapped me on the arm, and walked away.

France hurried over. "Joan! That was _incroyable_! You nearly beat _Angleterre_! Are you 'urt?" He said, all in one breath.

I smiled and leaned against him, grateful for the support. "No, I'm fine… He fixed my ears before he left."

I raised my head and stared out over the assembled Nations, then up at the sky. The sun was beginning to lower, and I estimated that it was close to five o'clock. _How did it get so late so quickly?_

I cleared my throat and began to speak. "Everybody… You all did amazing today. Undoubtedly, some things went wrong, but that just means that you made mistakes that you can learn from. You all gave it your best, and you all went above and beyond the bounds of what I expected. I'm very proud of you all. Now… Let's go eat! I'm starving!"

There was a chuckle, then the murmur of conversation as the Nations split up and headed back up to France's mansion.

The mood was warm around the table that night.

* * *

(Saint-Germain's POV)

I was shook awake by Madeleine later. How later, I had no idea, since I had taken the opportunity to sleep, but the red sand and bile-coloured sky in Tartarus' Shadowrealm were dark with night.

The cells themselves were pitch-black, except for a faint shimmering in the middle of ours.

"What _is _that?" Madeleine asked, a worried expression on her face. I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes. "What…? Jeez, I don't know. I'm gonna check it out."

I shuffled closer on my hands and knees, eyes still blurry with sleep. Madeleine hung back near the wall, obviously freaked out. She had probably never seen something like if before.

All of a sudden, the shimmer disappeared, and then the ghosts of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel appeared.

"Nick! Perry!" I exclaimed. Some of the Immortals nearby began to rouse.

"Francis," Perenelle breathed. "This is horrible! Joan had explained that you had been captured, but-"

"Wait. You talked to Joan?"

"Yes, and all of the Nations with her. They're planning to fight as hard as physically possible. You should have seen it! Her and the red-headed one, Scotland; they were on the warpath."

"What? Did somebody say Scotland?" Scathach's bleary voice asked, and I could see her approach her cell wall. Her eyes widened. "Nicholas! Perenelle!"

Perenelle smiled softly. "Yes, Scatty, someone said Scotland… The Nations have a message for you. One, for everybody, but a few personal ones as well."

They floated over to me, then paused, noticing Madeleine for the first time.

"Hello? Who's this?"

She managed a small bow. "Madeleine de Verchères. Tartarus is my master."

The ghosts were startled. "Is that so… Anyways, Francis, Joan has a message for you."

For some reason, I felt a bit annoyed from the way that the Flamels were ignoring Madeleine, but I said, "Really? May I hear it, please?"

Perenelle's mouth opened and instead of her own voice, Joan's tones came through.

"_Francis. I don't know if this will ever get to you, but… Well, if it does, um, I just wanted to tell you that we're doing everything that we can to prepare to fight. We have everything figured out, from talking with some aliens; sorry, I don't have time to explain, but now that Nick and Perry will ferry information, we can get this done. We can free you. Just… Stay alive for me, okay? Please?_"

Perenelle's mouth closed and I smiled at the familiarity of my wife's voice. "Tell her that I love her and that I'll be waiting for as long as I need to, okay?" I told her, and Perenelle nodded.

Nicholas floated over to Scathach. "This is from Scotland: _Scathach. Hi there. Well, um… Sorry, I'm not really sure how this works, and I'm not exactly comfortable with talking to ghosts, but… I just want you to know that… You're the most beautiful woman that I've ever met, and, um… Just… If you get hurt, I'll fight my way through a thousand Shadowrealms to get to you. Okay? Sit tight and I'll be there."_

In the gloom, I could see a furious blush appear on Scathach's face, but she couldn't stop a smile from curling her mouth. "And… Um… Stay safe and don't get yourself killed by England, okay? Don't want a scar on your handsome face, do we?" She said, then blushed even darker and snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed.

Nicholas was blushing as well, or, at least, the ghost stuff around his cheeks looked a little darker.

Perenelle moved over to Norway. "And, one final message for you, Norway…"

Romania, who had woken up, shook the Nation's shoulder sharply, and Norway jolted awake. "Wait, wha? What? Oh… Who are you?"

After a round of quick introductions, Perenelle opened her mouth, and England's voice came out: _Remember Ragnarok._

Perenelle smiled. "That's all, I'm sorry to say. We'll be back as soon as possible, okay?"

And then their forms shimmered, and they were gone.

* * *

(Joan's POV)

Later that night, I walked through the empty halls, automatically heading for Francis' room. On the way, I passed America and Antarctica, who were already curled up together, and England and Scotland in the next room. I walked to the door to my room and stopped.

It was too empty.

"No…" I muttered to myself.

Turning around, I jogged silently down the halls and, turning around a corner, entered France's room.

He glanced up from a book he was reading, surprised. "Joan? What are you doing 'ere?"

I fidgeted. "I… I just… I don't want to sleep alone tonight," I explained.

He smiled and patted the bed beside him. "Then, by all means, come in! I promise that I won't try anything."

I smiled gratefully and slipped in under the smooth covers. "Thank you…"

"Anything to make you 'appy." He said quietly, gazing into my eyes.

I blushed and quickly rolled away.

_God damn it! I'm married to Francis! _

He paused for a moment, then his weight shifted as he went back to his book. "Good night, Joan." He said softly.

"…Good night, France."

END OF DAY 3

* * *

**Dat fluffiness :3**

**Gotta love the pairing…**

**So**

**Um**

**Yay! Another chapter! And I finally figured out a way where it might be possible to beat England!**

**Also, the 'words of power' that I used were drawn from a variety of languages, just because I thought it would be fun **

**So, **_**ignis aeri **_**is Latin, **_**skipta lopt vio svell **_**is Old Norse, **_**rozdělit zemi **_**is Czech (just for fun) and **_**tarakounísei ti gie **_**is Greek.**

**So**

**Yeah**

**Wuvs!~**


	18. Chapter 18- Day 4 Part 1

(Joan's POV)

Early the next morning, Joan blinked open her eyes to France's room. Rolling over, confused, she wondered why she was sleeping in his bed again when… _Francis. Oh god, Francis…_

Joan swallowed back a veil of tears. They had always known where the other was, or had some way to get there as soon as possible, ever since they had been married, but now…

All she could do was wait.

Wait, and train.

_Training. Right._

She hoisted herself out from under France's warm covers and padded silently down the hall, glancing quickly in every room that she came to.

_Everybody's still asleep… Odd. I thought that the Nations said that they didn't need to sleep… _She mused as she made her way into the kitchen and began pulling out the ingredients for pancakes.

_Now, is it one cup or one and a half cups of flour…? _She mused, staring at the plastic container. _And what should we do for battle practice today? Duels again, or something a bit more innovative?_

All of the sudden, she stifled a snort as she realized what she had just thought. _Imagine… Two completely different things side by side, and I think about it so casually…_

Shaking her head, she dumped a cup and a half of flour into a mixing bowl. _Now, how much sugar do I need… And how does Capture the Flag sound, as a combat and strategy exercise…?_

Half an hour later, the Nations, having being attracted by the smell of the breakfast, were all settled down around the table. Canada had produced enough maple syrup for everybody, and they were soon laughing and talking boisterously, enemies forgotten with the promise of food.

Scotland, Joan, and France all sat in a little row. While the blonde kept on trying to cajole the other two Immortals to speak, they both ate their breakfasts in silence, and a dark mood hung over them.

It was quickly broken when Italy came skipping past where they were sitting.

"Come on, you-a guys!" The Italian exclaimed, his eyes scrunched up in their usual excitement. "Would-a Scathach and Francis want you to be all-a grumpy and sad while you're here?~"

Joan grudgingly lifted her head. "I guess not…" She grumped.

Scotland patted her on the back. "Don' worry," He whispered. "If ya want, we can be pissy later… But now's not the time, I don' think."

A reluctant smile slowly slipped its way on to her face. "I guess… There's a time and place for everything, right?"

He winked one of his green eyes at her. "Ya got that right, lassie."

Joan glanced up and, seeing that most of the Nations were done with their breakfasts, she stood up and placed her hands flat on the table. They fell silent.

"Right… So, today, for something different, we're going to do an exercise that forces us to work as teams and form strategies. We're going to… Play Capture the Flag."

Romano seemed unimpressed. "Yeah? That's a game! And where the hell are we going to play it, anyways!?"

"Yes, it's a game," Joan shot back. "But think about it. It builds team relationships, it improves your solo battle skills, it helps you form plans of both attack and defense, and it forces everybody to work together for a common cause. Are these not good reasons to play?"

"Well…" He muttered, beginning to blush.

"And besides. We need a break. It's fun, isn't it? As you so cleverly pointed out, it's a game."

Romano ducked his head and Joan smiled.

"You do have a point, though; I have absolutely no clue as to where we could play."

Canada raised his hand timidly. "Um… I have an idea…"

Joan sat down and gestured towards him. "Do tell."

A blush dusted his cheeks. "Well, um, there's a really great forest close to Lynn Canyon, in Vancouver, Canada… It has plenty of hiding places, ambush places, but also a few good flat spaces for pursuit. Anyways, I think that it might be a good place to play…"

Joan grinned. "Sounds perfect. Now, as for the teams… I've been thinking this through, so I've decided on a leader for each group, and a fairly equal skill set below each of them. So, England will be in charge of one team, Team…"

"Team Eyebrows!" America interrupted.

"Git…" He growled. "Team 1 is fine."

"Humph. You're no fun." America pouted.

Joan suppressed a grin. "And, Japan will be in charge of Team 2."

"Arigato," He said quietly.

"Right. So, England will have, um, America, Germany, Italy, Portugal, Canada, and Prussia, while Japan gets France, China, Antarctica, Scotland, Romano, and I. Sounds good?"

A few of them grumbled and complained, but the majority of Nations seemed happy enough with the arrangement, so Joan stood up and walked around the table to the back door.

"Canada, lead the way, please!"  
The young Nation grinned, surprised and pleased to be in charge of everybody, and walked onto the backyard with an extra spring in his step.

* * *

(Antarctica's POV)

I grinned at Canada's new authority and got up next, heading out the back door. America caught up to me.

"It's too bad that we aren't on the same team…" He said, staring ahead of him.

I smiled, noticing for the first time that we were the exact same height. "Yeah… But we'll survive, I guess…"

"I guess…" He repeated, rubbing his arms, then turned to me, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Hey, Antarctica, I just wanted to ask you-"

"Wanker! Get away from me!" A very loud, very irritated British voice yelled. We both glanced back to see that Italy had leaped onto England's back and was forcing him to give the Italian a piggyback ride.

"Hoo boy. Better break this up." America muttered. "England hates being embarrassed like that…"

And, quickly, he dropped back to pry off the hug-loving Italian.

I stared back at him. _Since when has he cared about that!?_ I wondered, then turned back to face Canada, who had paused and was waiting for everybody to catch up. I jogged the last couple of steps and arrived beside him, the other countries quickly doing the same.

"Everybody here?" He asked. "Good. Let's get going." He said without waiting for a response.

I stayed close to him as space began to warp around us and we trekked across the globe, walking for nearly fifteen minutes before we arrived at the forest that the Canadian had specified.

I gazed around at the greenery, marveling at the fresh, clean scent in the air and the abundant plant life that surrounded us. The other countries seemed equally impressed.

"I really should visit more often…" England muttered. "Completely beats London's smog…"

Canada beamed at the reception, while Joan coughed politely to bring everybody's attention back to her.

"Right. Everybody remember their teams?"

They all nodded, and I shifted closer to Japan, my team's leader.

"Good. You have five minutes to formulate a plan and hide the flag, and then we get going. Any boundaries, Canada?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Stay away from the canyon itself, of course…. The other boundaries are the path that runs along the west side, and the road that curves along the north and east. That gives us a pretty good area, though."

Joan nodded. "Great. Thank you. So… Your five minutes begin now!"

In a flash, the teams separated and we huddled in a little stand of trees, casting suspicious glances at the other group.

"Right." Japan whispered.

"Anybody have a frag to use?"

Romano nodded. "Yeah, Joan gave me this." He pulled out a bright red cloth, about two feet square, and Japan nodded.

"Excerrent. Thank you. So, they wirr expect us to hide it somewhere deep in the territory, and make it hard to get to. What we need to do is diversion. We set up a few guards on the prace where they would expect us to hide it, and have the other peopre go into their territory to hunt for theirs. However, _our_ flag wirr be hidden crose to their territory, where they wirr never look for it. Sounds good?"

China grinned. "_Now _I understand why you're the leader, aru." He whispered, and Japan smiled in response.

I nodded. "We just have to wait until they aren't looking and stash it somewhere close to here. How about over there?" I asked, jerking my head towards a hollow in a tree about three meters away. Japan nodded approvingly.

"Right. Ret's go!"

As one, we straightened and headed into the undergrowth.

"I volunteer to stay behind as a fake guard." I said to Japan, doing a salute as we ran. He grinned openly, to my surprise.

"So have Romano and Scotrand. The rest of us wirr be in enemy territory." He replied.

"And the flag?"

"China's hiding it as we speak."

"Good."

I veered away from him and joined Romano and Scotland.

"I was thinkin', we should probably stay away from the cliff, so… In the heart of our territory, then?" Scotland asked, and I smiled.

"Good idea. I'm planning on laying a few ice traps, so we don't want anyone skidding off the edge…"

Romano pointed. "That-a seems like a good fake place." He said, pointing to an island that was sitting in the middle of a vast marshy area, with only a single tree crossing over.

"Couldn't have picked it better myself," I said, grinning, and paused by what seemed to be a deer path through the undergrowth.

"I'll set an ambush here, okay?" I called. They nodded and split up, veering away from me.

Smiling, I watched them go, then turned around and got to business.

I cleared away leaves from a large patch of ground in the path, then saturated the earth with water and froze it solid, making a beautifully slick area. Strewing a few leaves over it, to try and disguise it, I surveyed my work with satisfaction and hopped into a nearby thicket, clearing myself an area low to the ground where I could leap out and tackle anybody that came by.

Settling onto my haunches, I waited tensely for someone to signal the start.

Moments later, a clear, high whistle rang out through the trees, scaring a flock of birds up, and I grinned evilly.

_And so, it begins…_

* * *

The waiting was worse than the preparation.

My muscles began to stiffen, and a bead of sweat rolled down my brow as I lurked in the undergrowth, hoping desperately for someone to come along.

However, my patience was awarded and the sound of someone blundering through the bushes alerted me, and I shifted my position, ready to jump out at anybody that came by.

America stumbled out from between a pair of trees, swearing extravagantly, and stopped right before my little ice patch, pulling a few burrs out from his shirt.

_Why…? I swear, fate is purposely trying to do this to me… _I moaned internally, but tensed my legs nevertheless and prepared to spring.

He pulled the final barbed ball from his sleeve, muttered something extraordinarily insulting to all burrs, and took a step forward. Another would bring him to the slick. I grinned, waiting.

He took another step and his foot thumped down heavily on the ice, immediately slipping out from under him. He cursed and stumbled, trying to regain his balance, but by that moment, I was already in motion.

I rocketed out of the thicket and slammed into his waist, wrapping both of my arms around his torso and pushing him, forcing America to fall over.

"What the…!?"

I smirked and flipped him over so that I was sitting squarely on his chest.

"Hi there!~"

America growled and grabbed onto my forearms, then rolled us over again, directly onto a downwards slope.

We began to tumble down the hill together, bouncing over every single rock that we encountered, but I ignored him and desperately tried to subdue him, freezing his arms to each other, pushing him away, but our momentum and the hill itself kept both of us virtually helpless against the slope.

It quickly ended, however, when the incline ended in a drop of about three feet. America had somehow managed to flip us over so that I was trapped beneath him, and my breath huffed out of my lungs as my back collided with the hard ground, causing stars to dance before my eyes.

When my vision cleared, I noticed several things at once.

One of his hands was keeping my wrists pinned to the ground above my head, while the other was pressed flat against my stomach, trapping me against the earth.

He was looming over me, one knee on either side of my body, his torso bent over.

His face was centimeters from mine.

And his glasses had somehow stayed on during our tumble.

I sucked in my breath, a bright flush creeping up my cheeks as I realized _exactly _what position we were in.

America blinked down at me, his blue eyes staring into my paler ones, and his head lowered, ever so slightly, tilting to the side just a tiny bit.

_Is he going to… Does he want to…_

A moment later, he blushed a deep red and immediately sat up, releasing my wrists and backing away until he was a good few feet away from me. I slowly straightened, rubbing my forearms where his hand had clamped on to them, the blush beginning to fade. Although…

I couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"S-sorry…" He muttered, looking away. "I… I'm… I'm sorry…"

I ducked my head. "Um…"

"Should we climb back up the hill?" He asked, desperately trying to change the subject. "I go back to my territory and you stay here like before?"

I nodded, and, although my blush had faded, it refused to go away entirely. "Y-yeah… Sounds good…"

He seemed relieved. "I'm sorry…" He stuttered. "I don't know what got into me… I'm really sorry…"

_But I didn't mind! _I wanted to scream, but instead nodded, staying silent, and stood up.

"Race you to the top of the hill?" I asked, trying to smooth the space between us.

He shot to his feet. "You're on!" He said, grinning.

He won the race.

But I let him.

**(A/N Sorry if that little scene was a bit awkward for anybody… I just felt that I needed to include it somewhere…)**

* * *

(Germany's POV)

As soon as Joan had signaled the beginning of the game, I rushed after England to huddle in a small circle with him next to me.

"Right, you buggers. Listen up. What we need to do is distraction. We send most of our group into their territory. They probably won't go too close to any of the edges, so try to search close to the center, in the most easily defensible places. But, if you see any guards, _do not _let yourself be seen at first. Go back and get enough countries to deal with all them, plus one more. While some of them draw away the guards, the other one goes and searches the area that they're guarding. We'll only need one or two fast, strong Nations to stay here and keep watch on the flag. Try to patrol it, though; we don't want to be too obvious about where it is."

Portugal raised a finger. "Any reason why you're deciding this alone?"

England glared. "Do you have any better ideas?"

She glared right back. "Yes, I do, actually. We hide it in the most defensible place possible, like, on top of a really big rock. We have two guards waiting in ambush, so that if anybody comes out, we get them. Even less obvious, but in a way, also expected. We need to take out as many people as possible, so that they don't trouble us."

England blinked. "That's actually… Pretty smart."

She snorted. "Of course it is! I was unified nearly a century before you; I think that I would have learned a few strategy tricks in my life!"

He blushed and looked down awkwardly. "Well…"

I decided to interrupt. "Anyways… Enough talk. Let's hide zhe flag already. Ve're running out of time." Straightening up, I led the way into the undergrowth, not looking behind me. The other Nations quickly followed, and we separated into two groups once we were out of sight. Since Italy clung to my and refused to be pried away, it was decided that he and I would sit guard over the flag, while everybody else would have the opportunity to actually experience some excitement.

"…Dummkopf."

Two minutes later, the flag was semi-concealed on top of an enormous rock with steep slopes, and Italy and I were positioned on either side of it, keeping close watch on our surroundings.

After only ten minutes, there was a shuffling in the bushes beside me and I jolted, only to relax when I saw Italy's familiar face poke out of the bushes.

"Italy. Shouldn't you be keeping vatch?" I scolded, and he hung his head.

"I-a know… I just… I really need to-a ask you something, Germany…"

He glanced up, his eyes fully open, with a nervous expression floating around in them. I sighed and settled back on a stump.

"Fine. Go ahead. Ask avay…"

He glanced away again, as if steeling himself for something, them looked directly into my eyes.

"Do… Do you-a know the name… Holy Roman Empire?"

* * *

I stared. There were half-remembered images, triggered by that name, flooding through my head.

_A girl… Or was it a boy? Wearing a green maid's dress, with a curl sticking out of the left side of its head, looking at me with closed eyes._

_The same person, tears running down its face, giving me a broom… To remember them by?_

_Dark. A battlefield. Blood and bodies everywhere… Then, a sharp pain and black._

_And then light._

_That person…_

I abruptly shook my head. "You're a bit older zhan me, remember? It must be somebody zhat you knew before zhen." I replied, looking away.

His face fell. "I… I-a thought…"

I glanced back, and there was such a look of dejection on his face that I couldn't help but speak again. "Vell… I do have a few, very distant memories…" I laughed shortly. "Zhere vas a person that looked a bit like you, oddly enough… And zhat person gave me a broom… And zhen zhere vas a battlefield, and zhat's all zhat I can remember. Did I help?" I asked.

His eyes widened and suddenly he flung himself at me, wrapping his arms tightly into a hug.

"I knew it…" He whispered. "I knew it all along…"

I patted him awkwardly on the back, although, for some reason, I couldn't find the willpower to push him away. "I… Um, I'm glad zhat I helped?" I said, making it a question.

He pulled back, grinning wildly. "You helped more-a than you could ever know, Germany…" He leaned forward, and for second, I thought that there was something else he wanted to do, but he stopped himself and backed away a few steps.

"Guess I should-a get back to my spot, eh?" He asked, and without waiting for a relpy, turned and walked away with a new spring in his step. I couldn't help but let a tiny smile slip on to my face, watching him go.

Shaking my head, I turned back to continue watching the flag, only to see that it was missing.

"Oh, for-!"

* * *

(Joan's POV)

I was hunting deep in England's territory, France by my side.

"Joan," He whispered. "Where do you think that the flag is?"

I glanced up, surprised. "Shouldn't you be making the guesses?" I asked, keeping my voice as low as his. "I mean, you've had so much more experience than I…"

He smiled, looking ahead. "Yes, but you are still the best strategist that I know. You were the one that took back so many French territory, no? I trust you with this decision."

I ducked my head, smiling proudly, then raised it and stared at our surroundings.

"Well… It'll be in the most defensible place possible. Somewhere high, preferably with only one way in or out. Like… A tree, or something. There won't be guards around, though, England's too smart for that and it would give away the position immediately. So, we have to rely on common sense…"

"But… Could 'e be doing the same trick as us?" France asked curiously. "I mean, if Japan thought it up, Angleterre should be able to think of something similar."

I grinned, still looking around. "Yeah, but I already thought of that. China is searching the border right now, making sure that they didn't. If they had, we would have won already."

He regarded me with a kind of confused awe. "You really are a genius…"

I blushed and looked down. "Well… I don't know. I'm just logical."

He grabbed on to my hand. "Good enough for me!~ Come on, let's go find ourselves a flag!" And with that, he ran ahead, forcing me to trail close behind him.

_I wonder what would happen if I gave him coffee… _I mused as we dashed through the woods. _Would it have any effect, or would he go insane for a while?_

…_I'm not sure that I want to find out…_

"'Hey, Joan…" France began, interrupting my train of thought. "Could that count as an easily defensible place?"

I glanced up to see a huge rock, nearly level with the treetops.

"Yeah… That might work…" I muttered. "Let's check it out."

I was about to step forward when he held out an arm to stop me. "Stop…" He breathed. "Remember what you just said? Guards? They're probably in ambush positions."

I glanced up at him, nodded, and stepped back.

"Let's circle around behind. I take left, you take right. we meet back here. Go."

He nodded and we separated, me creeping through the bushes as silently as possible. A third of the way through, I saw Germany facing away from me, staring intently at the rock, but that was all. I emerged from the bushes and quickly circled back on normal ground, to find France already waiting.

"Let's go. I caused a distraction, it should take place any moment now…"

A few seconds later, Germany's voice quietly rang out from the bushes.

"Italy. Shouldn't you be keeping vatch?"

"Go! Go!" France hissed, and we rushed forward silently, reaching the rock in a few steps and quickly beginning to climb.

"How did you make the suggestion?" I asked, nearly out of breath.

He grinned. "I veeery quietly suggested to Italy that Germany might be the 'Oly Roman Empire."

I frowned, but bit back my torrent of questions and climbed up to the top.

"It's beautiful…" France breathed, looking out over the forest, and I had to agree.

His hand brushed against mine and he took it, interlacing our fingers together.

And I didn't mind.

Bending, keeping our hands together, I spotted a red flash between two rocks and quickly snatched it up.

"I got the flag! Let's go." I hissed, and we quickly descended together, still holding hands.

As we raced back to our own territory, not caring about the noise that we made, only one thought kept on popping back into my head.

_Maybe it's time to move on from Francis. There's no reason why I can't be happy if he's kidnapped, or even dead. Even if he's alive, I don't feel that I could have much more of a future with him anyways._

_I could have one with France._

* * *

We hurried back into our own territory, grinning triumphantly. One hand holding the flag, I took my other hand away from France's so that I could summon a silver whistle, and blew it hard, the call echoing loudly from the trees.

First were Antarctica and America, emerging together, both of them dirty and a slight blush on Antarctica's cheeks.

Then, Scotland arrived, and after a minute's interval, Romano, Germany, and Italy came from both directions at the same time, China close behind.

Canada, England, Portugal, and Prussia all popped up at the exact same from opposing bushes and hurried over into our huddle, then, finally, Japan jogged quickly into the clearing, smudges of dirt on his white uniform. I glanced around.

"Everybody here? Good. Well, first, I would like to announce that Japan's team won." I said cheerfully, holding up the flag for all to see.

Our team cheered with huge grins on their faces while England and the rest of his group looked put out. Germany cast a glance towards Italy and nudged him with his elbow, and the Italian blushed awkwardly.

I raised my voice above the clamor. "Hopefully, this exercise will have taught you something about working as a team, and strategy. The plans we used today, at their most basic form, could be used against Tartarus, so let's keep that in mind. Anyways, let's head back to the mansion. I'm hungry, and we might get another message from the Immortals."

There were a few scattered chuckles among the group, and I took France's hand, ignoring the curious stares.

"Everybody ready? Let's go then!"

And, as one, we warped back on our cross-Atlantic trek.

(America's POV)

America wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't done it.

_I'm America the hero, right!? _He thought indignantly to himself. _I always know exactly why I do things!_

…_But this time, I _don't_ know…_

When Antarctica had first tackled him from the bush, he had been surprised, of course. Who wouldn't be? And he got kinda pissed off pretty quickly, too, with that smug little grin on her face. And then, they had somehow managed to fall down the hill together, her fighting him every single inch that they rolled. She had somehow gotten trapped beneath him at the very end, and…

_God, I wanted to kiss her so badly…_

America had been hiding a crush on her for at least fifty years, but she hadn't seemed to show the same interest back to him, so he hadn't said anything. Then, she had started to date Norway, and right after he had worked up the courage to confess to her that he liked her.

He was… Disappointed, to say the least.

And it had got even more confusing when she had protected him and the albino single-handedly, and America had begun to think that Antarctica liked him back, and he slowly realized that he loved her. When she had broke up with Norway, America was almost feeling triumphant. He actually had a chance with her!

And so, when she was lying beneath him, he wanted to kiss her, take exactly what he wanted and needed.

But then, this tiny little voice had said something like, '_Don't do it. Think of how _she _feels. She's still torn up from Norway, and kissing her would just make life so much worse for her. Don't do it._

Usually, America didn't pay attention to little things like that, but this time…

He did.

And he still didn't know why.

(Joan's POV)

During the walk, Joan glanced back a few times at America, who was staying mostly silent for once and occasionally muttered something that she couldn't pick up.

_Weird… I wonder what he's thinking about? And why is he all dirty? And why was Antarctica blushing?_

A host of answers immediately came to her head, but Joan discarded most of them, seeing as most were outlandish or just…. _Wrong… _

She was about to come to a conclusion, narrowing down her best options, when France tapped Joan on the shoulder and her concentration flew out the window.

_Damn!_

"Yeah?" She asked quietly, trying her best not to get annoyed. It wasn't France's fault that he didn't know she was thinking, after all.

"Um… We're 'ere…" He replied, a bit nervously, and Joan glanced around to see that everyone had already gone inside France's mansion. They were standing alone on the lawn.

Joan blushed. "Oops… Heh heh… Let's go inside then, shall we?"

She tried a grin, failed, and hurried up the lawn, France's curious gaze boring into her flushed neck.

Opening the door, she quickly shut it and walked quickly to the kitchen, where the ghosts of Nicholas and Perenelle were already moving through the Nations, delivering personal messages.

"Did you tell Norway about Ragnarok?" England asked anxiously.

Nicholas nodded. "Yes. He seemed a bit confused, at first, but I could tell that he had some sort of idea forming in the back of his head. I don't think that he had even realized it, but there were traces of a plan in there."

The Brit looked relieved. "Thank god… Maybe this won't be such a disaster after all…"

Perenelle finally spotted Joan.

"Joan! There you are! I was getting a bit worried, but… I'm glad to see you again." She said warmly.

Joan frowned. "How did you get here so quickly? I was thinking that it would take you at least another few hours to get back here from Tartarus' Shadowrealm."

The ghost laughed. "Today is Midsummer, remember? The time of Litha? It's when the transition between worlds is easiest, so we can zip back and forth for today with barely a hitch."

_Oh, right… Today's Litha… Wasn't this the day that Xpyiayoc said Tartarus would be crossing over?_

She snorted silently. _Glad he was wrong and the Pictos were right… It's good to know that we have a bit more time._

"Do I have any messages from Francis?" She asked curiously.

Nicholas floated over. "Yes. Here you go. _… Tell her that I love her and that I'll be waiting for as long as I need to, okay?_"

Joan giggled. "I guess he doesn't quite have the knack of sending ghost messages… Here. I'll send him one now, if you don't mind."

Nicholas nodded. "Sure."

Joan took a deep breath. "Hey, Francis… How are you doing over there? Hope you have at least some nice scenery. Tell me about everybody that you can see there. Are all the Immortals with you? Is there anybody that I don't know? Tell me as much as you can! And don't wait for me. Do your very best to get out of here as soon as possible. I can't come until I kill Tartarus, and I have no idea when we can do that… But yeah. I'll still see you again, I promise."

Nicholas smiled. "I'll get the message to him as soon as possible. And don't worry, they'll find a way to get out. I'm sure of it."

Joan smiled ruefully, then stepped back and took France's hand, ignoring everybody's shock. "I hope they do… We're going to have a lot to talk about…"

* * *

(Saint-Germain's POV)

**(A/N Gaah I know that these two POVs aren't exactly in sync, it's a bit confusing. This is in the morning, right after everybody woke up.)**

I leaned my back against the wall, Madeleine beside me.

"Hey, Norway," I asked, a few questions tumbling through my mind. "What do you think England meant by Ragnarok?"

Norway frowned. "I'm not quite sure, but… Remember how I said that he slipped into the Nothing, so that nobody could ever try to control him?"

"Yeah…"

"Well…" He continued. "There's a chance that he's still alive and surviving between the worlds."

I bolted upright. "Is that even possible!?" I demanded, shocked to my core.

"I don't know… Theoretically, yes. It's a different kind of matter than what we're used to, but that doesn't mean that it's deadly…"

I screwed my eyes shut, then slowly opened them again. "Let me rephrase that. Is it even possible for _us _to survive in it?"

The Nordic paled even more than usual. "You… You aren't thinking…"

I nodded firmly. "We can escape through the Nothing. Tartarus will never be the wiser, and I don't think that even he would dare to follow us."

Norway paused, then shook his head. "No. Even if we could, it would take massive amounts of energy to open a portal, something we don't have."

"We have Marethyu, Sophie, and Tsagaglalal," I reminded him.

"But this place sucks away our aura, doesn't it? We would need to actually get out of prison before we can even think about doing anything."

I frowned, concentrating, then brightened again and turned to Madeleine. "That's where you come in!" I exclaimed.

"…What!?"

"Think about it," I coaxed. "If what you say about training is true, you're the only one here that's let out of here, to use your aura. You can, I dunno, make it somehow possible to get out while he isn't looking, or something!"

Madeleine frowned. "I don't think so… It would be nearly impossible to do anything, he's always watching me."

I deflated. "Damn…"

She watched me for a moment longer.

"Well…"

I sat up again. "Yeah?"

"I might be able to decrease the building's pull on your auras, just a little, and funnel it into me instead. You wouldn't be able to use it all, but the more powerful of you would be able to get through the windows, and we can figure something out from there…"

I laughed and hugged her tightly around the shoulders. "Really!? Thank you so much!"

She smiled a little and hugged back. "Don't be grateful. He's kept me here for such a long time; I want to be able to see the real world."

Then she poked me in the side and pulled out from the hug. "And I'm curious about this thing that you call 'chocolate'… I've never had any, so I want to try some, okay?"

I grinned. "If we get out, you can have all the chocolate that you want…"

All the other Immortals, who had been listening closely to our conversation, crowded around as close as they could get in their cells.

"Now, here's the plan…"

* * *

**jkrahgiuhgkldjsrghlsiugh**

**IT TOOK SO LAAAWWWNNNGGG**

**I SSAAWWWYYYYYYY**

**Um**

**Heh**

**Yeah**

**Anyways**

**You thought that this was gonna be another action chapter, weren't you, hmm? But it WASN'T. It was ROMANTICY. *mindexplosion***

**Heh**

**Still failing just as hard as I was before… .-.**

**Well**

**You know the drill, then!**

**Wuvs~**


	19. Chapter 19- Day 4 Part 2

(Joan's POV)

Joan sighed and slumped back into a couch as the pair of ghosts faded away. "Well, that's dealt with…" She muttered to herself. "And we've already done training for today… Now what? I don't want us to be lazing around and doing nothing…." She mused aloud, then snapped her fingers as an idea lit her mind.

"Hey, America, can you get us in contact with the Pictos again? We didn't really ask much about Gaia before… We need to find out as much as we can."

The American nodded and whipped out his laptop from nowhere, then flipped it open and began to type rapidly, eyes flitting over the screen.

"Tony gave me the Picto's coordinates before…" He murmured. "If I can get those and trace them, then we should be able to contact the aliens directly…"

Joan blinked a few times in surprise. _He actually has coherent and useful thoughts… Who knew?_

Only a few moments later, the screen on the computer blinked black like it had before, and America motioned for Joan to position herself in front of the camera. She grinned and obliged, the Nations crowding around her as Joan focused her thoughts and prepared to re-enter the realm of politeness and diplomacy.

The Picto spokesperson's face appeared, and Joan took a deep breath.

"Greetings, Jeanne d'Arc. What is it that you require of us?"

Joan bowed as much as she could, seeing as she was sitting down. "Salutations. I have several questions that I must pose to you and your people, many of them pertaining to Gaia."

The alien nodded. "Very well. I shall do my best to answer, and one of our main Gaia researchers shall be on hand."

"Thank you, and thank your researcher for me. Now, the first question; have you begun your preparations in accordance with my plan?" She inquired, brushing a strand of her hair out of her eyes.

"We have, and they are well under way. Tartarus seems to be stirring, although he has not yet left his Shadowrealm. Our ships are being prepared and our forces are being briefed. When you call us, the Pictos will be ready."

Joan nodded, forcing the smile to stay off her face. "We are more grateful than you can imagine. However, I will have to keep you for longer, as we have more inquiries…"

The Picto nodded. "Very well."

"In the possibility that we may need to fight Gaia, what will we need to expect?"

"Gaia… It used to be massively intelligent and cunning, yet also gentle and kind, one of an ancient race that had control over the cosmos itself. It oversaw the planning and creation of Earth… But a problem occurred in Earth's bonding, and Gaia in some way was trapped at the burning core of the planet. The race slowly died out as newer civilizations sprung up, and Gaia slowly went insane from its captivity. It lost its mind, its intelligence and benevolence… It became a mindless, brutal monster that slept the millennia away to hide from its own psychopathy."

For some reason, a twinge of sympathy twisted Joan's gut, but she let it pass. "And… It would destroy the planet if it awoke. Would it happen the moment that it opened its eyes? Would we have some time, if we ever did need to fight?"

The alien looked somewhere off-screen and talked briefly with something to her left, then looked back at Joan. "The creature used to exist in the full light of stars. It is what gave Gaia its power, its energy. While it was trapped, the energy lost its potency and it was weakened greatly. It desires nothing more than to see the sky again, to regain its former glory. If it does, that will be the point where its power will stretch enough to destroy the entire planet, whether Gaia wishes it or not."

"So, Tartarus is using Gaia against its own will…" Joan mused, reassessing her view of the energy being.

The Picto ducked its head in acknowledgement. "He is. Do you have any more questions?"

Joan shook her head slowly. "No, that will be all… Thank you for your answers and for your aid."

The Picto then did something completely unexpected and gave a little wave, tilting her head to the side. "My pleasure. Contact us again soon~!" She said warmly, and then the screen flashed to black again.

Joan blinked.

And blinked again.

"Werr… That was an odd ending…" Japan said quietly.

Joan huffed out a deep breath. "No kidding…" She replied, equally quietly.

China tapped her on the shoulder. "We aren't really going to fight Gaia, are we, aru?" He asked, worry creasing his brow.

Joan tried a smile. "Not if we can help it… Even though it's weakened, I still highly doubt that will be able to fight and win… Even with all of you, and even if we _did _win, the losses would be too great to justify it. No, we're going to fight, and beat, just Tartarus, which will be a challenge in itself."

China sighed with relief and stepped back, wrapping an arm around Portugal's waist. "Thank god, aru… I was really starting to get worried there…"

Joan grinned and stood up, clapping her hands sharply together. "Right! Whether we like it or not, we're still going to have to fight, so we need to be prepared. Let's review the location of where Tartarus will enter and come up with a battle plan of sorts, shall we?"

With general mutterings of consent, the Nations rose as one, stretching to sort out the kinks from being hunched over, and flocked to the dining room table, where Canada was already rolling out the map where Joan had marked the former location of the Tor Ri.

Joan stabbed her finger down onto the paper. "Right. As we know, we'll need to enter directly there, and directly after Tartarus. How long would it take for us to go to there from here, Nation traveling?"

"Not long. Three minutes at most." France replied solemnly.

Joan nodded absentmindedly. "But we'll need to find out _when _he'll be entering…"

"The Pictos will probably let us know," Antarctica replied.

Joan brightened considerably. "You're right! I almost forgot…"

"Erhem… The-a battle plan?" Romano reminded her quietly, and Joan blushed abruptly.

"Right. I've actually been thinking about this for some time… We should probably attack in waves. Four of us at a time should be able to hold him off for a few good minutes while the others prepare and rest, especially if we manage to surround him…"

"It won't be easy," Japan cautioned her.

"I know, I know, but it was all that I could come up with…" Joan replied apologetically.

"Vouldn't it be viser to attack all at vonce?" Germany asked. "Ve vill probably be pressed for time, in some vay… Zhe vave idea is good, but ve vill need to be fast unt deadly. I suggest an all-out attack, all at once, surrounding him. If ve can subdue him quickly enough, zhen ve vill be able to beat him."

"That… Actually made sense…" Joan murmured slowly.

Prussia cackled and ruffled his younger brother's slicked-back hair. "Great job, Vest! Nearly as good as somezhing zhat zhe AWESOME PREUßEN could zhink up!"

Germany grumbled something and pushed away his brother's hand, but not before he allowed himself a tiny grin of satisfaction.

Joan smirked and stood up. "Well… I guess that we have everything figured out…" She laughed a little. "I was hoping that it would take up some more time, so that we wouldn't be lazing around for half the day, but… Oh well! We may as well take a little break from doom and gloom and everything…"

Scotland frowned and said, "I agree with ya, with the whole 'have fun' stuff and everythin', but… Shouldn't we be a little more serious or somethin'?"

Joan's smiling expression didn't waver. "I've seen people who went to their deaths crying, and I've seen people who went to their deaths laughing. They all died in the end, but the laughing ones had a better time of it. The same applies here. I doubt that there's much more we can do to prepare you… With the immortals gone, we can't learn much, and fighting might cause injuries… We should enjoy ourselves, no?"

A slow smile broke out over Scotland's face. "I knew that I would like ya… Well, then, there are no more 'jections from here! Let's go and -bleeping- enjoy ourselves!"

* * *

(Saint-Germain's POV)

For the next half of the day, the Immortals huddled as best as they could as they began to create a plan, Madeleine providing what she knew of the castle's layout while Norway, Romania, Marethyu, Sophie, and Tsagaglalal began to discuss how they would actually create a portal into the Nothing.

Sophie: So, as we've agreed, we almost certainly have enough aura power to do it. The question is, how?

Norway: I think that we actually need to destroy a section of Tartarus' Shadowrealm, to make a gap that we can slip into.

Marethyu: And how do you suggest that we do that?

Romania: … I thought that only creators could do that…

Tsagaglalal: Marethyu, isn't that possible for you? Your hook _is _made from-

Marethyu: *ahem* I would rather that it stays a secret, thank you very much… But I doubt it. It can only make leygates, something that Tartarus has almost certainly guarded against.

Romania: But if enough power- the combined power of our auras- was put into it, would it be enough to create a leygate of sorts into the Nothing?

Sophie: We're talking about a lot of power here. Enough to actually rip a hole in the fabric of the world.

Norway: If we get out, I can call my friend N'uskray, and he will be able to give an extra boost, since he is a manifestation of five elements.

Sophie: Five!

Norway: Yes. Life, death, spirit, earth, and air.

Sophie:….

Romania: Great! But, wouldn't Tartarus guard against that as well?

Norway: He's a spirit. Spirits are able to travel wherever they wish. They aren't quite of this dimension, especially the more powerful ones.

Tsagaglalal: That is actually a perfect idea… Count me impressed. But will it still be enough?

Norway: …I'm not sure. It's our best chance, though. We are all central to this, and not a single thing can go wrong, or we will fail.

Scathach: Hey, everyone! Nicholas and Perenelle are arriving!

We all jolted out of our conversations as the air in the middle of the cell block began to shimmer, heralding the arrival of the ghosts.

"Saint-Germain!" Perenelle cried happily the moment she saw me, completely ignoring Madeleine. "It is good to see that you are alive and well… How are you?"

"Bored." I replied. "And hungry," I added, as a suddenly growling stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten for at least a day, and I winced but continued to speak. "But other than that, it's fine. We actually have a plan to escape, and Tartarus hasn't visited except for once. It would seem that he's simply forgotten about us."

Nicholas nodded slowly. "That's odd, but… There's not much that we can do about it, I suppose… Do you want to hear your messages?"

"Yes, please," I replied eagerly.

Perenelle cleared her throat and then Joan's voice wafted out of her mouth. _"Hey, Francis… How are you doing over there? Hope you have at least some nice scenery. Tell me about everybody that you can see there. Are all the Immortals with you? Is there anybody that I don't know? Tell me as much as you can! And don't wait for me. Do your very best to get out of here as soon as possible. I can't come until I kill Tartarus, and I have no idea when we can do that… But yeah. I'll still see you again, I promise." _Perenelle closed her mouth and smiled. "That's all. Anything you want to say to her?"

I frowned. _That message… It sounds almost impersonal, in a way… _I shook my head to clear my thoughts. _Must just be imagining it._

"Yeah," I replied, regaining my smile. "I would love to." Clearing my throat, I began to speak. "Hi, Joan. We're doing fine… All of the Immortals are here, including Norway and Romania, and we even have someone new; Madeleine de Vercheres. Tartarus is her master, but she's completely trustworthy and is helping us to come up with a plan. Honestly, you two would get along really well, I think… We're gonna get out of here as soon as possible, and then we're gonna help kick Tartarus' ass! Well, if you haven't done that already… So, yeah. Don't worry, we'll survive, okay? I love you." I added at the end, and Perenelle grinned.

"It looks like you've finally gotten the hang of speaking through ghosts, Francis," She said warmly, then moved away and bent down, putting her mouth next to Shakespeare's ear. Although Francis could faintly hear England's voice coming from her throat, her lips didn't move at all, which added an eerie effect to an already slightly eerie experience. In the meanwhile, Nicholas floated to Scathach, and the entire population of Immortals crowded around, wanting to hear what the Scot would say to the Next Generation. She blushed a dark red and glared at everyone that came closer, but nobody moved an inch. She sighed.

"If you need to…" Scathach said casually, although even an untrained mind could detect the excitement in her voice.

"_Hi, Scathach… Glad to hear that you think I have a handsome face…" _He laughed, and Francis could practically detect the blush in his voice. _"And I'll do my best not to let England kill me, although we both have more pressing matters to deal with right now… Anyways._" At that moment, an irritated British voice broke in. "_Just tell her that you love her already, you git!" _Then, a cacophony of voices broke it out, and Joan could hear the sound of several things breaking in the background, and then Scotland's voice came back. _"Scathach. Don't listen to that idiot. Well, I'm not saying that I don't, but… Gah! Just- Um. Um. Yeah." _Then, Scotland's voice went too low for me to hear, but judging by Scathach's reaction, I could get a general idea of what he was saying.

Scathach's celtic skin was as red as a tomato.

Nicholas closed his mouth. "And that's all! Um… Have anything to say back?" He asked, looking awkwardly.

Scathach nodded and leaned in, speaking too quietly for me to hear, so I leaned back and closed my eyes, giving up on the eavesdropping.

"Well, that'll be all!" Perenelle said cheerfully. "We'll be on our way n-"

"_Who said that you're going anywhere?" _A curiously high-pitched voice said, with a counterpoint that sounded like a rockslide.

_No. No. Nonononono._

Tartarus swept into the prison block, yellow eyes glowing angrily, his black hide rasping against the panes that kept us separated. _"Scum," _He hissed. _"Ghosts are like rats, always being places that they shouldn't. I should have put up wards millennia ago."_

Nicholas and Perenelle both desperately began to disappear away, but Tartarus reached a hand into their essence, effectively pinning them in his world. _"What are you doing here? Carrying messages for your precious Immortals and Nations? Oh, it is a pity that I didn't get them with the rest of you irritating vermin… They are strong, I will admit… Enough to let me have some fun with then before they are wiped off the face of this planet..." _He growled, a low and dangerous sound. We were all completely immobilized. Tartarus leaned in close to Nicholas and Perenelle's voices and began to speak, his voice a low, indecipherable buzz that rang faintly in my ears. A moment later, they were both gone, and Tartarus turned back to face all of us at once, his wings slowly furling and unfurling.

_"And do not think that you have escaped my notice… Talk, make your plans, maybe even attempt to escape… It is all for nothing. The final battle will be soon, and you will be trapped here for all eternity. There is nothing that will change that. You will try, and you fail." _He began to move away, then paused. _"Get used to it."_

And then he was gone.

I blinked, and then a core of rage began to grow in my stomach, burning through my veins like the fire that I controlled.

"We will get out of here. Tomorrow. First thing. I know how. Just watch." I hissed, a low and dangerous sound.

* * *

**(Joan's POV)**

Five hours later, they were exhausted.

"I will never make-a so much pasta again…" Italy moaned from the couch that he was sprawled on.

France nodded in sleepy agreement. "And never put cinnamon in it again…" He shuddered. "That taste will forever lurk in my nightmares…"

America, who was curled up with Antarctica, raised his head. "I thought it was pretty good, actually!"

England agreed. "It wasn't half bad!"

Joan thumped her head against an armrest. "You're insaaannnee…." She moaned, one hand resting delicately on her stomach.

All of the sudden, the air began to shimmer, and Joan jolted up, wincing at the sudden movement.

_Two visits from Nick and Perry in one day!? Impossible! How…_

And suddenly, they blinked into view.

And that was all.

Nicholas and Perenelle hung completely motionless in midair, staring blankly ahead, not making any movement. Joan frowned and was about to speak when Perenelle's mouth opened and she relayed Francis' message to her. Before she could respond, Nicholas did the same with Scathach's, although Joan could barely hear it.

And then a new voice came out of both of their throats at the same time.

"_So, you must be these legendary Nations," _It hissed. _"It is a pleasure to meet you- although, indirectly, I admit. There are some things that you must know, and then I must depart, for your friends have been causing me some trouble._

_First: In exactly twenty-four hours._

_Second: In the former location of the Tor Ri._

_Third: Be ready to fight. I want to have a good, long, playtime with you. And you will be the first to witness the destruction of your world!_

_I cannot say that it has been nice talking to you, because I _desperately _want to rip your guts open and strangle you with your intestines- Now, there's an idea! But it has been interesting. I will see you in a day, no less, no more. Farewell."_

And then Nicholas and Perenelle were both gone.

"…Tartarus." Canada said quietly. Italy hugged Germany for comfort, while Joan stared directly ahead.

"Twenty four hours and then we fight…" She whispered, feeling hollow. Suddenly, what had seemed like a vague possibility for the future had become very real and very deadly. "And even die… A day to save the world…"

She shook her head, expelling her moment of weakness. "America! Contact the Pictos! Tell them that we're ready for them!" Joan shouted, jolting everyone out of their thoughts. She paused.

"We're ready for you, Tartarus… Whether we like it not, we'll be there, and when we leave, you'll be dead." She muttered.

**END OF DAY 4**

* * *

**Okay. I probably should have warned you, now that school's up again for me, I'll be updating a LOT slower.**

**So**

**Yeah**

**Oh, and I almost forgot! Thank you to soapythepopadom (did I get your name right?) the guest, for her constant support of ScotlandxScathach, a pairing that I wasn't intending on doing much with, but, oh well! Thank you for your reviews. **

**And ermahgerd! The drama of it all! My epic (I wish) saga is beginning to come to a close!**

**Eh, don't worry ****There's still a while to go yet, and I even have a few ideas for a sequel, if anybody wants.**

**Also:**

**I need to change the name of this (because the current name is horrible) and I don't have any ideas. Can people who have any thoughts on that tell me through a PM? You have until the next update, when I'll announce my favourite name, and then the update after, I'll change it, to give everyone some warning. The person with the winning name will get a free read and review (or two) of every single one of their fanfics that's in a fandom that I recognize!**

**Wuvs~**


	20. Chapter 20- Day 5 Part 1

**Ladies and gents! I have found a new title, submitted by the mysterious The Anime Freak, who is a guest! It shall be announced at the end of the chapter **

**Now, without further ado, chapter 20!**

(Joan's POV)

Joan awoke early the next morning, the sun beginning to filter through the curtains. The sheets were still and cold, and as senses gradually returned to her half-awake self, she realized that a low muttering could be heard from the dining room. _Everyone must have woken up already, _she realized. _Actually, I'd be surprised if they slept at all… I can hardly blame them… _Joan herself had stayed awake for half the night, tossing and turning, her mind trying to figure out every single possible scenario for the next day's battle. Shaking her head, Joan slid out from under her covers and began to dress herself in the same clothes that she had worn the day before, then padded down the hall and into the room where the Nations had already gathered and were eating quietly. The moment she entered, they turned to her expectantly, faces filled with calm, fear, and even anticipation, in the cases of Prussia and America.

"Nations…" Joan began softly, then thumped herself on the forehead. "No. That isn't right. Let me start again. Friends… Today, we will be fighting a battle unlike anything that we have ever seen. Today, we will either live or die, and the planet along with us, but by God, we will not go down without a fight!"

General murmurs of assent were heard around the table, and Joan continued. "We have fought. We have trained. We have lost and gained, and through all that, we have prepared. The time of preparation is over. We could not teach other anything else even if we tried. You all have auras of amazing power. You have learned to control them, and you have learned to change the fate of the world itself. But… Most importantly… You have learned how to have a conversation without being at each other's throats."

A few chuckles were heard here and there, and a tiny smile appeared on Italy's otherwise frightened face. Joan pressed on.

"Actually, although it may sound amusing, that's the truth. You've made friends. You've made allies. This entire group as a whole has become amazingly closely knit, and I believe that you would be ready to sacrifice your lives for each other. I know that I would, for each and every one of you. Now… I have no more pretty speeches to make, no more training to do. I would say… If there's anybody that any of you love that isn't here, go to them. Spend what might be the…" She checked the oven clock hurriedly. "What might be the last ten hours of your life with those you hold most dear. You might not get an opportunity to otherwise. Go now. I won't mind… Just be sure to be back here in less than ten hours, okay?"

A few smiles and nods, and the group went back to their breakfast, helpfully cooked by France. Joan grabbed a croissant or two and sat down between China and France, then began to eat silently. A hand tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

"Jeanne…" France murmured close to her ear. "Do not worry about the battle. We will all survive, I swear. I will protect you to my last breath."

"Don't bother…" Joan whispered back. "I can take care of myself just fine."

A hand gently brushed the hair back from her face. "But I will always be there. I let you die before, in a way. Please, if the chance comes, let me take a blow for you."

She shook her head slowly. "I can't let you do that… I would never be able to live with myself if I got you hurt."

"And 'ow do you think I would feel?" France replied, an angry note in his voice. "If you died, where I would 'ave only gotten injured. Do you want me to go through losing you again!?" He hissed, and Joan raised her shoulders defensively.

"…No…"

"Fine. Then if it's either you or me that gets injured, don't be stupid. Let me get 'urt instead of you."

"…Okay…"

He grinned cheerily as Joan stuffed the last bit of breakfasty pastry into her mouth sullenly. "Parfait! Then, shall we begin our day?"

Glancing up and seeing as most of the Nations had finished and were simply loitering around, Joan nodded firmly. "Yes. Let's begin."

* * *

(Romano's POV)

The moment everyone had finished breakfast, Romano stood straight up and made a beeline out into the backyard, then immediately warped away, not letting anyone follow him.

_I don't want anyone-a knowing where I'm-a going… I will never live it-a down… _He thought somewhat grumpily as he crossed France's western border. Within less than a minute, he was standing in front of a familiar house, surrounded by rows of tomato plants. Reaching out a hand, he knocked loudly on the door, then took a step back, beginning to sweat nervously. Thirty seconds later, he knocked again. There was still no answer. _Damnit… What-a if he isn't here-_

"Roma!~~~" A loud, accented voice called out from behind him, and Romano turned around slowly.

"What are you doing, visiting Spain the Boss? You almost never come around!~" Spain said cheerily, wiping his forehead with a tanned arm, a basket of tomatoes held under the other.

Romano just scowled, although inside, he was secretly glad to see that Spain was there to greet him.

"Hey, tomato bastard… I… Um… I need to ask you something…" He muttered quietly, glancing down.

When he looked back up, the Spaniard's usually cheerful visage had become concerned, and he approached Romano slowly. "We should talk about this inside…" He murmured, and the Italian nodded jerkily.

A minute later, they were both seated together on a couch, Spain's hand resting on Romano's knee.

"…Roma. What's wrong? You can tell the boss, I swear…"

_Damn. Damndamndamndamn. How do I say this!?_

"…Spain…" He began quietly. "Do-a you mind if you fill in for me at work tomorrow?"

The Spaniard frowned. "Of course, but-"

"And maybe the day after-a that too? And-a the one after? I might be gone for a long-a time…"

Spain's eyes widened. "You don't mean-"

Romano glared. "I-a don't mean anything, Tomato Bastard! J-just do it, will-a you!?"

Spain, to Romano's surprise, matched his glare. "You never tell me anything, _Italy Romano_! What, do you think that I'm too weak to hear about your problems!? Or do you think that I'm not _worthy _enough to listen to every single issue that you have!?" He snapped, utterly shocking the Italian. Spain continued.

"Romano, I _want _to listen to you. I _want _to be able to help you in any way possible. And if you just keep on pushing me away like you always do, then you just make things worse for yourself! Why do you do it?"

"Because I don't want you to worry about me!" Romano yelled back, startling Spain into silence. "Because I want you to always stay as your happy, carefree, idiotic self without having to-a carry my burdens as well as yours, okay!? I just want you to be the Spain that I've always known!"

Spain gaped. "Romano… I didn't think that you cared… But honestly, I can take at least a bit of your crap… Just… Tell me what's on your mind right now, okay? I can handle that much. What did you mean by 'gone for a long time'? You don't really mean that… You could… Die, right?"

Romano nodded awkwardly, looking away.

"Yeah. In ten hours… I might-a die… Take care of-a the tomatoes, okay?"

A moment later, his shoulders shuddered, and Romano buried his face in his hands, his usual uncaring mask cracking even further in front of the Spaniard.

"I don't-a want to die…" He whispered, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

A hand reached around and tilted Romano's face up to Spain.

"You won't die, Romano…" The Spaniard whispered, and then their lips met and then the world disappeared.

The Italian curled his hands up around Spain's back, gladly giving in to the man that he had secretly loved for centuries, even if he didn't admit to even himself. After a few moments, Spain pulled away, his vibrant green eyes with a devilish twinkle in them. "Now, Roma…" He breathed. "Tell me… Are you going to die?"

The Italian smirked. "Of course-a not~"

And then he pulled Spain back in.

**(A/N Was that OOC? I'm pretty sure that was OOC… Whatever. It was too cute to resist w)**

* * *

(Antarctica's POV)

After the breakfast, Antarctica quickly realized that she hadn't changed out of her pyjamas yet, and beelined for her and America's room.

_God… I swear, my forgetfulness will get me killed one of these days… _A corner of her mouth twitched at her weak joke, then immediately fell still. She sighed. _As if I'll need my forgetfulness to get myself killed, the way things have been going…_

Reached her room, she turned around, shut and locked the door, then began the swift process of undressing herself. Antarctica had always hated getting changed… Not because of the time she took, but because of what she saw. She had avoided looking in mirrors since they had been invented, but, sometimes, her eye caught the edge of one and she couldn't resist taking just a glance…

So, she was standing in front of the closet mirror, wearing nothing but her underclothes, wondering exactly why she was there.

_It's not like I see anything different… _Antarctica grumped as she crossed her arms over her abdomen.

_Same emaciated gut… Same protruding ribs…_

Her hand traced a large white mark on her shoulder. _Same old gunshot scar…_

It moved to below her left collarbone, moving lightly over a knotted scar than had been created by a jagged piece of ice.

Lingering there, Antarctica's fingers soon twisted to the backs of her shoulders, where stripes from a leather whip had created a crosshatched pattern of pinkish marks. She grimaced slightly; the whip had been wielded by one of her own people, who had accused her of being an ice demon. _Same old, same old…_

Moving on, Antarctica brushed her fingers over a large semi-circle resting on her left hip. It was her most recent scar, caused when a starving leopard seal had tried to take a chunk out of her side.

She hesitated before moving to the final mar.

A thick, ridged scar stretched across her abdomen, starting high on the left side of her rib cage before slashing diagonally across her belly button and ending on her right outer thigh, close to the hip joint. Antarctica shuddered as she remembered what-or _who- _had caused it, fifty years earlier.

Her best friend, in a drunken rage, had made certain… _Advances _on her that she hadn't quite… Reciprocated.

She had fought back.

He had gotten a knife.

He split her open.

She killed him.

Antarctica shivered as she remembered the feel of his chest caving under her fist, the decisive snap of his spine breaking, the slower crunch of twisting his head around until it was facing the wrong way, the vertebrae were pulled apart, and bits of bone were sticking out of that bloodied thing at unnatural angles.

Lifting her gaze back to the mirror, Antarctica saw the same thing that she always had: an emaciated girl with white-and-black hair and ice blue eyes, covered with the scars of her past.

And those were just the ones that she hadn't healed, the ones that people wouldn't see in public.

She sighed.

_Same old me._

"Hey, dudette, do you mind if I-"

Antarctica stiffened, her head slowly turning towards the source of the voice, her arms wrapping protectively around her chest.

America was standing in the doorway, blushing crimson red.

"O-oh, if you're, um, getting changed, I-I can, um, leave…" His voice petered out as his eyes were drawn to the bullet scar on her shoulder, then to the rest, covering her back and abdomen.

"…Antarctica… What are those?" He asked slowly, as if his mind was trying to get itself around the sight.

She flinched, instinctively turning away and hunching over, which only put the whip scars covering her back on display.

She could hear a door clicking shut, then quiet footsteps tapping up to where she was standing. A light hand brushed itself over the ridges.

"Are these… Scars? Antarctica, who did this?"

She ducked her head, refusing to respond. _Why me? Why him? Why NOW!?_

"Antarctica. Tell me." America pressed, sounding more insistent. Antarctica shook her head, her hair falling over her face, staying mute. A few moments later, she heard America's breath rush out in a sigh, and then the bedsprings squeaked as he plopped himself down onto it.

"Fine. If you aren't going to say… At least let me heal them. I'm the hero, right? I'm supposed to do stuff like this."

Antarctica sighed. _I don't have a choice, do I? If I refuse, he'll just keep on pressuring me until I cave… May as well just give in, I guess…_

Without looking up, she plodded over to where America was and sat down, turned so that she was facing away from him, and crossed her thin legs under her body. Without hesitating, America began to trace his fingertips over the whip scars and a shimmering heat followed them as the ridged skin flattened and softened to match the rest of her back.

_Nope. Nope. I'm not enjoying this at all. Not one bit._

"Antarctica…" He began quietly, jolting Antarctica out of her thoughts. "Why didn't you heal these? It's not like you're not strong enough…"

She shrugged with as little motion as possible. "I wanted to remember." Antarctica replied quietly.

America lifted his finger and began healing the next scar. "Remember what?"

"I want to remember my past. I want to remember who I was and who I am. Every single one of these scars reminds me of a mistake I made, to be sure that I won't make it again."

"Couldn't you just, like, remember it without a scar?" He asked, starting on a third.

Antarctica laughed shortly. "You can never be sure. I don't exactly have the best memory in the world. This way, I always remember. And, it's kind of like a punishment, I guess. A punishment for making those mistakes in the first place."

America finished healing the third scar and began to work on a fourth, bringing his other hand in to finish off the fifth at the same time. "Well, that's stupid." He replied bluntly.

"Hey!" She snapped back, indignant. "It might seem to be stupid to you, but each of those scars has an important story behind it!"

"Fine then." He leaned forward, bringing his mouth next to her ear. "Tell me the story of each scar, and I'll judge whether it's worth keeping or not."

Antarctica shivered, but nodded nonetheless.

"These ones?"

"One of my people mistook me for an ice demon. Took it on himself to punish me for my existence."

"Should be physically impossible. That person was an idiot. Gone." America's fingertip moved another few inches down her back, and the last trace of the whip scars disappeared. His hands traced down to the semi circle on her hip.

"Starving leopard seal tried to take a chunk out of me. I keep it to remind myself of the danger in my land."

"If you want to think of danger, just look at yourself. You can kick any of our asses. Gone." His warm skin swept across her own cold body, and the mark vanished before America's fingers curled up to her shoulder.

"How about this?" He asked, his breath warm on her neck.

"South American researcher shot me. Reminds me to not trust too easily."

"That's just stupid. Being able to trust is a good thing, isn't it?" America's hand twitched and the scar faded.

He paused. "Is that everything, 'Tica?" America asked, and Antarctica shook her head.

"I told you, I really hate that name…" She grumbled, but wiggled around on the bed so that Antarctica was facing the American, keeping her gaze down and crossing her arms over her chest protectively, blushing at the fact that she was only wearing a bra and undies.

"O-okay then… Can you tell me what this one's from?" America stuttered, laying a fingertip lightly on the scar coiling across her collarbone. Antarctica's eyes strayed up to his face and shot back down when she saw that the country was blushing just as hard as she was.

"U-um… A chunk of ice caught me there while I was trying to find shelter… It reminds me to always be cautious around things that I feel are safe…"

"Again, being able to trust and to believe that you're safe are both good things. You need to be able to relax once in a while, 'Tica." America said a bit awkwardly, drawing the finger across the scar. Finally, his hands moved gently to the knotted one on her abdomen.

"Last one… Tell me what caused it, Antarctica." He said gently.

"No."

"…What?"

"I said no. I'm not going to tell you the story behind this one. And I'm not going to let you heal it."

America sighed. "I'm not gonna give you a choice, 'Tica. A hero's gotta do what a hero's gotta do." A tingling warmth spread across Antarctica's abdomen, and she gasped, knowing that the scar had just been removed without her permission.

"You-!"

"Yup. Me."

"America, you had no right to do that! That scar- _All _of those scars- Were who I was! Who I am now! And you just… Obliterated them!" Antarctica hissed furiously, while America stared back at her calmly.

"You got it right the first time. Those scars are who you _were. _Not who you _are. _People can change, 'Tica. And I'll be damned if the time at France's mansion didn't change every single one of us. Think of it as a new beginning of sorts, okay?"

Antarctica glared at him, breathing hard. "But still, you shouldn't have-"

America interrupted her with a kiss on the forehead, leaving the continent beet red and stuttering.

"Think about it," He murmured, getting up and exiting the bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving only silence in his wake.

**(A/N Meeeeeeh I have the feeling that I spent waaayyyyy too much time on this pairing… More than all the others… But vhatevah! Anterica is my OTP! So there!)**

* * *

(Italy's POV)

Italy was confused, and he was feeling confused about his confusion.

He knew that it wasn't abnormal for him to not know what the heck was going on- that was one of his trademarks!- but Italy was confused because he didn't quite know why he was confused in the first place.

He had figured out the basic reason, of course, which was Germany… But he didn't know how to react.

_What do-a I do? _The Italian moaned mentally, sitting on a couch, his head clutched in his hands. _I can't-a talk to fratello, because he's already gone and he would just yell at me, and Japan would-a have no idea what to do, and Prussia would laugh and-a say something about-a being awesome, and Big Brother France would be even worse, and I'm-a not talking to Germany, because then I would get even more confused, and-_

Italy sighed, propping his chin up on his hands. _I-a know that Germany is Holy Rome, somehow, in some-a way, but he doesn't even remember! Would it-a just makes things worse if I confront him? He seemed to be kinda tense and even scared- No, that's silly! Germany doesn't get scared, but…_

"Italy?" A deep, accented voice interrupted Italy out of his thoughts, and his head jolted up to see…

Germany.

The country was blushing slightly and he motioned to the couch. "May I sit here, please?"

Italy's eyes widened, speechless, and he mutely nodded, struggling to control his blush. _Damn! Damn! Damn! Can Germany read my thoughts or something?... What if he can!? Does-a Germany know what I was just thinking about-a there!?_

Germany sat down beside the Italian awkwardly, and they both stayed there for an extraordinarily uncomfortable minute of glances and thumb-twiddling, until Germany opened his mouth and began to speak.

"I've been thinking about zhe question you asked me earlier, Italy, about zhe Holy Roman Empire… And vhen I said zhat I had memories, unt you got all excited, zhat brought back more memories…" He coughed into his fist, the German's blush darkening by the moment.

"Zhe person I saw in zhe memories, who had zhe curl and zhe eyes like yours… Amber eyes zhat I never saw because zhey vere always nearly closed…"

Italy waited with bated breath, hardly believing what Germany was saying.

"Vas zhat person… Vas he you, Italy?"

The Italian, completely stunned, could only nod uncertainly. _What. What. What. What. Germany remembers!?_

A tiny smile slipped onto Germany's face, and he shyly took Italy's hand, rubbing his thumb over the calluses. Italy shivered at the sensation.

"Zhat is good… I am glad zhat I have finally found out who I am, unt who I vas…"

Italy couldn't think. He just couldn't. The country was too utterly shocked to be able to form a coherent thought, but as he sat there, the feeling of confusion that had filled him began to fade away, replaced by relief and even joy.

"I… I… I don't-a know what to say…" Italy managed to get out. "I-a never thought I would find Holy Rome again after he-a left, and even after I-a asked, I never thought that you would-a remember…"

Germany turned to face him, waiting patiently for Italy to finish his thought.

"But… But… I'm-a so glad that you did! I'm-a so, so glad!" He cried, lurching forward and wrapping his arms tightly around Germany's shoulders, shuddering with sobs of grief, at losing his childhood love, and pure joy, at finding him again. The German held him tightly, rocking them slowly back and forth as he whispered phrases from his native tongue into the crying Italian's ear. After nearly five minutes, Italy finally pulled away from the hug slightly.

"Germany?"

"Ja, Italy?"

"Ti amo… I-a hope you don't mind…"

"… Not at all, Italy."

"… Really?"

"No… Because Ich liebe dich."

"…."

"KESESESESESESESESE! Looks like Vest's gonna get some!"

"PRUSSIAAAA!"

* * *

**DKRJBLKJGBKCNMFGLKJBGTRSLIUBTHLKJ BKDLTUJHBPSROTUIBHSL;IUBTHSEILUBH THE WAAAIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG *dies***

***resurrects self* Oh. My. Fruking. GAWD I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT I WAS SUCH A LAZY ASSHOLE AND WRITER'S BLOCK WAS EVIL AND… AND…. *dies for a second time***

***resurrects self for a second time* Aaaanyyywwaayysss…. I shall alert you to the new title of this cracky, fluffy, crossover, which I shall be changing when I post my next chapter!**

**The new name is…**

_**When the Clock Stops, **_**an amazing title of amazingness that I never would have been able to think up. Thank you sooooooooo much, The Anime Freak. Thank you also to IOU1882 for her contributions, which I was seriously considering for quite a while there ****However, in the end, this one won out and yeah!**

**So**

**Um**

**Favourite, follow, and review please? We're nearing the end, at long last…**

**Wuvs~**


End file.
